


Color Me in Love

by AleishaDreams



Series: The Color in my World [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Never Met, Colors trope, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Slow Build, True Love, color me in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 104,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2437283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AleishaDreams/pseuds/AleishaDreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world is full of beautiful colors.</p><p>There is the happy yellow, the romantic red, the hopeful green, and the calming blue.</p><p>Colors are really appreciated in this world and society. </p><p>Why? Because nobody is born being able to see colors. Everything is on shades of grey, black and white. Why? That’s just the way it is since forever, since humans started to roam freely in this blue planet called Earth.</p><p>But this doesn’t depress humans – oh, no – because there is always hope. There’s hope for a person to be able to appreciate the huge rainbow of colors the world is. Sadly, it isn’t that easy.</p><p>Because colors appear in front of you once you see, for the first time, to your one and true love at their eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The world is full of beautiful colors.

There is the happy yellow, the romantic red, the hopeful green, and the calming blue.

Colors are really appreciated in this world and society.

Why? Because nobody was born being able to see colors. Everything is on shades of grey, black and white. Why? That’s just the way it is since forever; since humans started to roam freely in this blue planet called Earth.

But this doesn’t depress humans – oh, no – because there is always hope. There’s hope for a person to be able to appreciate the huge rainbow of colors the world is. Sadly, it isn’t that easy.

Because colors appear in your sight once you see, for the first time ever, to your one and true love at their eyes.

And it isn’t easy because there is a possibility of never ever encounter your true love. How can that be possible? Well, not everyone has the money or the capacity to travel all around the world to look for that specific person. Or it could take years to find them. So people have understood that, sometimes, you can’t win over destiny.

And then, there is another difficulty that not everyone has.

Tachibana Makoto is a 20 years old college student living in Tokyo. He is majoring in Literature. He is the older brother of two twins – Ren and Ran. His hobbies are listening Jazz music, sometimes swimming – backstroke, of course –, and trying to learn how to cook – but he is the first to admit he is a disaster. His favorite food is Green Curry.

And he is blind.

He has been blind since birth, so he has learnt how to support by himself through life, and his parents did an amazing job at educating him to be an independent person so he can have an adult life of his own.

And to not feel like an anomaly in this world where being able to see is considered a must.

If you want to find your true destined love, that is.

Whenever he meets new people, he senses this kind of “I feel sorry for him” vibe from them. Makoto doesn’t blame them. Even if it was annoying at first, he now knows that that is people’s own ignorant way of seeing life because society is kind of – a lot of – obsessed with finding true love.

But that doesn’t keep Makoto awake at night, being honest. He is content with himself and is pretty much happy with his life. Of course the idea of never finding his true destined love kind of made him sad at first, but now he is alright with it.

Mainly because he firstly and foremost loves himself.

“Oi, Makoto!” A voice calls him in the distant, announcing its arriving.

Makoto is sitting at a table outside of a café, he is drinking a latte while eating a cinnamon roll.

“Hello, Rin,” he greets when he hears the sound of a chair moving in front of him, “I’m glad you could make it. How have you been?”

“Fine, fine! I’m glad too. Fuck, I thought that maybe I wouldn’t meet you before leaving again.”

This is Matsuoka Rin. He is Makoto’s best friend since they were kids but got separated at middle school when Rin decided to pursue his dreams towards competitive swimming in Australia, coming back to Japan for high school, and then going back to Australia after it. Right now he is taking a two weeks’ vacation.

“You know,” the redhead continues talking, “Because I thought you were busy, being in college and all.”

“Nah, Rin, it’s ok. I’ll always have time for you,” he says as he smiles tenderly to his friend, “How are things with Yamazaki?”

“You know? People never tell you these things.” He lifts his hand to call a waitress. “They always talk about how wonderful life is when you find your true love. Butterflies and bees and shit, but they never tell you what to do when your true love is kind of an asshole.”

Makoto giggles at his friend. Rin discovered his true love in high school when this so called Yamazaki Sousuke transferred to his class. Makoto guesses now it’s kind of difficult to maintain a stable relationship when they are so far apart; with Rin on Australia and Yamazaki staying in Tokyo.

“Well, that asshole is your true destined love. I think that means something. Don’t you think, Rin?”

“Are you insinuating that I’M an asshole?” His voice sounds amused, so Makoto knows he is grinning with a smirk. “I saw him yesterday, actually.” The waitress finally arrives and Rin asks for a black coffee – Makoto has always thought it’s funny how Rin is tries too hard to “adult” since they were kids – “But the little jerk was busy and didn’t pay much attention to me.”

Makoto knows that, with Rin, “attention to me” actually means “sex with me”.

“Maybe you didn’t attract his attention the right way?”

“I’m fucking hot, what else am I supposed to do?”

“I think it’s more like you had imagined this sweet romantic encounter with him, right?” Rin is a lost romantic cause, after all.

“Shut up.”

 

 

A few hours later, Makoto is already at his apartment. He is preparing the bath to finally relax his body a bit after a long day of work. He had to go all the way to the center of the city to buy some books in Braille. Even if his College’s library has a vast repertory of books in Braille he sometimes has to venture to midtown.

He giggles when he remembers Rin complaining about his so not romantic lover.

 _“That little shit didn’t even go to the airport for me,”_ his complained at the café.

Rin has always been like that. He always presents himself as a hot shot, but he is actually a really big romantic dork. When the redhead discovered that Yamazaki is his true love, he actually  **jumped**  of excitement, and when classes finished he  **ran**  all the way to Makoto’s house to tell him about the exiting news. Rin then continued to try to explain just how wonderful it feels when you finally find the person you are going to spend the rest of your life with.

The excitement, the joy, the glee, the warm knot in your gut – “Shut up, Makoto, I feel it in my gut, not my heart” – and this urgent need to just touch him, hug him and kiss those “snobby jerk lips of him”.

And the colors! Wow! They are amazing – Rin said at that moment – he now understood why people would make a fuss about them, when they are so wonderful. Yamazaki’s eyes are teal color, by the way, and Rin declared it like the best color there is in the entire world – “But don’t ever tell Sousuke I told you that”.

And then Rin apologized for being an insensitive asshole.

Makoto lets out a relieved sigh when he feels the warm water cover his naked body at the bathtub, resting his head on the tub’s edge and closing his eyes.

 _“I’m—I’m sorry, Makoto, I just—“_ Rin’s voice sounded at the back of his head.

_"It’s ok, Rin, you’re so happy and excited! I’m so happy for you.”_

And it indeed is ok. That was the first and last time that Rin apologized to him. Since they were kids, the redhead has always been pretty sensitive about Makoto’s blind condition; he would even defend him from bullies and poisonous gossip at elementary school. But, if Makoto had to choose, the best part of his friendship with Rin is that he treats him no different.

In fact, it’s because of Rin that Makoto was able to learn how to swim backstroke at elementary school. To be honest, he was kind of nervous at first because of his blindness, but Rin encouraged him to try.

And when he did and found out that it was a wonderful experience, he thanked Rin, but his friend replied.

_“I didn’t do anything, Makoto, it was already inside of you.”_

His friendship with Rin is pretty great.

After getting out of the bath and putting some clothes on, Makoto decides to have some cereal – he isn’t feeling adventurous enough to try to cook something more complex –, sit on the couch and listen to some Jazz music.

Yes, this is his kind of Friday night.

Suddenly, he hears a sound coming from somewhere. He leaves his bowl of cereal on the coffee table and gets up, following the noise around the place. It sounds muffled and like a thing is being dropped or something like that. Soft noises of paper and then heavy noises of things, as said before, being dropped at the floor.  Makoto continues to walk until he arrives at his little kitchen. If his ear doesn’t trick him, it seems that the noise comes from the apartment next door. Huh, how weird, that apartment it’s supposed to be empty.

Ah, but maybe someone has just moved, that is a possibility. And the noise is of the people there opening and moving boxes, of course. He should go and say hello.

That will have to wait for tomorrow, though, right now it’s kind of late at night for that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The world is full of beautiful colors.

There is the happy yellow, the romantic red, the hopeful green, and the calming blue.

Colors are really appreciated in this world and society.

And that is a pain in the ass.

Why? Because society is obsessed with it, and acts like it must be the best thing on the world to ever happen to someone. And of course it is, but it isn’t  **necessary**  to be so  **annoying**  about it. Even more, society acts like if you haven’t found your true destined love then MAYBE there is something wrong with you. They give you that sympathetic look and often say “Don’t worry, the time will come,” like you even asked them for their opinion; which, of course, you didn’t.

And, seriously, what kind of system for finding true love is that? If people don’t have the money to travel around they can pretty much say goodbye to the ever-lasting happiness society is so obsessed about.

How did humans even evolution like that? What purpose does it have?

Either way, this is how the world is.

Nanase Haruka is a 20 years old college student. He is, against all odds, majoring in Art. “Against all odds”? Well, yes, because he fucking can’t see colors, and so what?

When he announced his decision to his parents, the first thing they asked him was if he had found his true, destined love and he had to tell the embarrassing truth. Of course he hadn’t.

True, it is weird for someone who can’t see colors to be majoring in Art, but there’s this little technique called “coloring in gray scale” where you paint basing it on shades of light, rather than color; meaning that if it looks good with gray lighting, then it must – should – look good for people who can see in colors.

Right now he is moving and opening boxes at his new apartment. He decided to move out from his previous place because now he is closer to college. That and that being Nagisa’s roommate was a total torture.

His cellphone starts to ring with a childish tune. Speaking of the devil. Haruka is about to decide to ignore the call but ultimately answers. With a groan he grabs the little machine and taps it open.

“Yes?” He answers with that serious voice of his.

“Haru-chan!” The voice at the other side of the line sounded really sad, even prolonging the U in his name, “I miss you so much, Haru-chan!”

“You miss my cooking, not me,” he replies and Nagisa gasps.

“Haru-chan! How dare you imply that I only use you! What kind of friend do you think I am?!”

“Have you cooked something?” All he receives for an answer to his question is silence, “I guessed that much.”

 “Haru-chan!” He sounds pissed but then his tune gets all happy again, “And how is the new place? Is it nice? I should go tomorrow!”

Hazuki Nagisa, the blond childish 19 years old college student. He is majoring on Veterinary Medicine because he really wants to save and pet cute animals –though,  **all**  animals are cute following Nagisa’s logic. They’ve known each other since forever and been friends just as much, even if the blond guy is younger than him. And is, sometimes, kind of annoying.

That is why Haruka decided to move out from that place. Even if he loves Nagisa with all his might, he sometimes needs his private alone time and that is almost impossible with this guy around who loves to cuddle and talk all the time. Not to mention that Ryuugazaki Rei, Nagisa’s true destined lover, sometimes spends the night with him and, well, let’s just say that Nagisa likes to make a lot of noise.

“Sure, you can come tomorrow.”

“Can I bring Rei-chan?”

“Of course, Nagisa.”

A little excited shout is heard next to his ear. “You know, you should buy some beer to celebrate!”

“I won’t buy beer so you can get illegally drunk at my place,” Haru declares and Nagisa groans at him, “Rei would agree with me.”

“Of course that nerd would agree with you.”

Haruka couldn’t help a little smile at his friend’s words. Nagisa met Rei in high school, one fateful day at the train when he was going home but didn’t discover they were true lovers until weeks later when they finally saw each other in the eyes. In that same train that stopped so suddenly that Nagisa almost fell to the floor. Rei caught him before that and when Nagisa looked at him to say thanks, the world started to illuminate, coloring itself and angels were singing and the whole train car started to applause and cry in happiness for them.

Or so Nagisa told him.

When Haruka first met Rei, he was honestly surprised that destiny would pair up two persons so different from each other. Nagisa is playful, childish and acts like a spoiled kid most of the time. Rei is diligent, strict and very calculating. But they are so into each other, and in the end Haruka saw them learn from each other. Nagisa started to be more responsible about school thanks to Rei, and Rei started to be more playful thanks to Nagisa. Sometimes Rei goes along with Nagisa’s crazy antics and sometimes Nagisa goes with Rei’s more serious plans.

If Haruka didn’t believe in love before, he did the moment he saw Nagisa and Rei together.

“And what about your neighbors? Have you met them yet?” Nagisa inquired.

“No, I haven’t.” Haruka sits down on an armchair.

  _“And I won’t,”_  he thinks in the privacy of his mind, because meeting new people is really annoying and time consuming.

“It indeed is pretty late at night... in fact, I better hang up now.”

Haruka is almost sure that Nagisa wants to end the call because Rei has just arrived to his place.

“Sure, see you tomorrow at 6 PM, Nagisa.”

“Bye-bye, Haru-chan!”

The moment Haruka taps his phone close, a soft melody starts play. He looks around the small and almost empty room. It obviously doesn’t come from inside his place, so it must be next door.

It sounds like Jazz music.

Wow, the walls must be pretty thin. He better be careful about that in the future. But the music is nice and the volume is actually a considerate one, taking into consideration that the neighbor probably doesn’t know about his existence just yet. Haruka gets up and continues with his job of opening and moving boxes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The morning naturally arrives the next day.

Makoto gets up yawning and trying to placate with his hand the bed hair he has when the alarm clock marks 8AM. He goes to the living room, picks the remote control and turns on the stereo with it, being careful about the volume this time. He goes to the bathroom to take a quick shower.  After that, Makoto prepares some eggs with bacon – bacon that thankfully doesn’t taste as burnt as he has expected – in the kitchen, and when he is about to grab his cane to go outside, his cellphone starts to ring.

“Hello?”

“Makoto-senpai, hello!” A girly voice calls him. A smile appears on his face when he recognizes it.

“Gou-chan, how are you?”

Matsuoka Gou, Rin’s 19 years old little sister. She is also majoring in Literature. When Rin left Japan to pursue his dream, Makoto and Gou became closer together and the man is happy to call her his friend.

“I’m fine, how about you?” Makoto answers that thank you, he also is fine. “Are you busy right now?”

“Actually, I was going to call you because I’m going to the market.”

“And I’m calling you for that!” Gou laughs a little, “See you there, then!”

Makoto smiles and hangs up after saying his farewells. Gou and he have taken this habit of going to the market every two weeks. He enjoys the girl’s company and she also helps him to choose groceries – not all food is tagged with Braille, after all.

After a short ride in the train, he arrives at the market. The place is a big stowage with a lot of booths that sells different kinds of things; from fruit, to meat, to fish, to crab, to candy, and etcetera. Everything you could think of it probably is there. Probably.

“I’m here, Makoto-senpai!” Gou’s voice calls him again along with the sound of running feet that stop in front of him.

“Good morning, Gou-chan. Thanks as always.”

“Stop that, Makoto-senpai!” Gou amicably slaps him in the arm. “You make it sound like it’s a waste of my time being here. And it’s isn’t.”

“You are right, Gou-chan, I’m sorry.” He smiles gently. Makoto feels how Gou is pulling him carefully by the arm.

“Let’s go, Makoto-senpai,” she says.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Haruka’s alarm goes off at 8:30 AM, and after taking a shower he goes to the kitchen to prepare his favorite: mackerel. He is about to do that when he hears murmurs while walking. Murmurs coming from the other side of the wall.

He can’t make up anything from the noise, but the person at the other side is obviously talking.

These walls are really thin.

After having breakfast, he prepares his bag with the necessary for a great time at the public pool nearby – another reason to move here, actually. He appointed Nagisa and Rei at 6PM, so he has a lot of free time until then and he is going to spend it swimming every second of it.

Swimming for him is something liberating, even more than painting. Water doesn’t question him, water doesn’t ask him about anything. Water is silent and accepting if you treat it like what it is: an independent being.

And Haruka sure treats it like that.

The moment his skin gets that wet feeling embracing his whole being it’s when his mind can find true peace. He doesn’t need to think about anything, and he doesn’t need to respond to anyone, and he definitely doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone. Because water accepts him just like he is.

And it’s colorless.

Even if he is really good at this swimming hobby of his, he never intended to turn it into something more serious, like a lot of people had thought he would. Everybody was surprised when he decided for an Art major instead of going into competitive swimming. But being competitive would totally clash with what being in the water feels for him and that is why he didn’t even try it.

He didn’t want to lose this feeling of peace that water gives him just by being in it.

After a few hours, Haruka decides to go out of the pool. The clock hanging at the far wall of the building, over the pool, marks 12 PM. It is still really early, but he has to eat and still prepare some things at his house.

He mentally says goodbye to the pool and goes away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When they finish their shopping, Makoto bids his farewells to Gou. He is getting down the train with his groceries inside a big backpack to be able to use his cane while walking. It’s a good thing he doesn’t need that much of food – with him living alone – or buying stuff by himself would be really problematic.

He is walking down the street when he hears some meowing.

“Ah, it’s been a while, kitten,” he says and immediately feels something passing through the space of his legs, “Yeah, I know, I’ve been busy.”

Makoto kneels down and lets the little animal to get closer to him, when he feels it on his hand he pats its little and fluffy head. He loves animals, cats mainly. They are calm, silent, gentle and really warm. Whenever someone says they don’t like cats, Makoto almost takes it personally.

“I’ll bring you something to eat later in the evening, kitten,” he confirms more to himself than for the kitten - kittens don’t understand human, Makoto - and gets up.

He has homework to do at home, so he hurries up and when he arrives at his apartment, he searches for his keys in his pants’ pockets.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Haruka is going upstairs at his building, his apartment it’s at the second floor and the last one – so he only has one neighbor. He is thinking and planning on what to cook today; he is feeling kind of lazy, so maybe something easy and simple will do.

When he gets to the second floor of the building, he sees a tall man in front of the door next to his apartment. He must be his neighbor. Maybe he should present himself, he is already there, so…

He gets closer to the man, waiting a reaction. The man looking at him, the man greeting him, the man telling him hello, anything. But the stranger doesn't do anything.

Maybe his neighbor doesn't want to meet; maybe he is actually a rude jerk.

“Mmmh? Is something wrong?” The man suddenly asks to the air.

Haruka at first doesn’t know if he’s talking to him because the other isn’t looking at him directly, but more like he is asking the door.

“Ah, are you the new neighbor?”

Oh, he **is** talking to him.

“My name is Nanase Haruka.”

The tall man finally faces him with a smile and closed eyes. It’s the most calming and adorable smile Haruka has ever seen.

Wow, how corny that sounds.

“I’m Tachibana Makoto, I’m your neighbor next door. Nice to meet you.” He extends his hand to shake Haru’s, which is weird because Haru is still somewhat far away.

“Yeah, same.” Haru shakes the man’s hand after getting closer.

“If you need anything, you can ask away, don’t worry. This is a calm neighborhood, I’ve been living here for a year or so,” the man continues to talk after releasing his hand.

“Actually…” Haruka should mention about the thin walls, right? “I guess the walls are really thin, because yesterday and today I heard some noise coming from your side of the wall.”

Tachibana’s face turns into red, clearly embarrassed with the news. Haruka thinks of it as something weird; it’s not like he heard Tachibana doing something embarrassing.

“Oh, my, really? I’m sorry. I’ll be careful from here on, Nanase-kun.”

Makoto opens his eyes and Haruka can clearly see them.

So clear that suddenly everything around him starts to paint itself with a rainbow of colors. So many colors he can’t even name but that still makes his heart flutter in excitement. His breath stops for a few seconds while looking everywhere. His eyes can’t decide on what to concentrate as everything is screaming with color, tones, and hues, making him dizzy with the explosion of new discoveries without names.

And even if he can’t even name all the colors, the world itself it’s so beautiful and colorful it doesn’t even matter! All these colors surrounding him that makes him feel like drowning of joy.

Does this mean that—!

“Well, I better go,” Tachibana suddenly says, “I still need to prepare the supper, which can take me a while.” He chuckles and grabs a cane that is reclined on the wall.

Oh.

“See you later, Nanase-kun,” Tachibana says while opening his door, closing it behind him.

**Oh.**

“Shit.”

Nanase Haruka wonders just how bad he was in a previous life for Karma to fuck him up like this.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The moment the door closes behind him, Haruka starts to somewhat panic. What is he supposed to do now? It results that his true, destined lover is his neighbor and he’s blind! They never taught him at school what to do in that case.

And yes, school does teach about finding true, destined love; just right before the sex education class.

Haru walks in circles around his tiny table thinking about the possibilities of what this means. Tachibana Makoto obviously doesn’t know that they are meant to be each other’s because he didn’t react at all when their eyes met. And of course he didn’t, he couldn’t see Haruka! But now what? What is Haruka supposed to do now? Just go and knock on the other’s door and go “Hey, guess what? We’re true, destined lovers!”? It seems illogical and plain old creepy.

He stops his walking suddenly. Creepy?

His hands pass through his hair while he lets go an exasperated sigh. Yeah, the whole idea of spending the rest of your life with a complete stranger just because they made you see colors is rather scary. What does Haruka feels about Tachibana, anyways? Is this supposed to be love?

Haruka tries to remember what Nagisa told him what he felt when he discovered Rei being his true love. Following Nagisa’s words; it should feel like… drowning? But it isn’t a bad drowning, it’s a good one. A drowning that is meant to be and never wanting to leave. And tension, lots of tension in his body and not knowing what to do with it, well, more like can’t decide what to do. Nagisa said at that moment that all he wanted to do was to spend all of his time with Rei, hugging, touching and kissing him, but – mainly and more importantly – stare into his purple bright eyes that were full of love and amazement.

Well, Haruka just feels plain confused.

And these colors are starting to feel rather annoying, to be honest.

He sits at his couch – what an ugly color for a couch, whatever it is. Why did his parents allow him to buy such hideous thing? – and starts to worry his bottom lip.

Maybe he is feeling like this because he’s the only one being able to see? Maybe this “mythical link” between lovers is interrupted because of Tachibana’s condition. Maybe and somehow his brain knows that it’s incomplete or broken, and that’s why he’s feeling like a fish out of the water.

Like drowning, but a bad drowning.

A sudden idea comes into his mind and then he stands up, going to his bedroom and starting to look for something in his little bookcase until he finds it. It’s his color book. Haru goes back to the couch – what an ugly color, geez – and sits there.

He had bought this book at the beginning of the last year of high school, when he decided to study Arts. It's a book with its pages full of colors and their names, it also explains which colors you would need to combine to get more colors and so on. He flips the pages until he gets to the color he is looking for.

Haru passes the fingertip over the "green" square as if he could touch the color. Tachibana’s eyes are green, but they aren’t this kind of green. He continues to flip the pages looking for the exact shade of green but none of this book satisfies Haruka’s strict eye. The closer one would be something between olive, olive drab and Pakistan green and that’s just a big MAYBE because Tachibana’s eyes green felt different than all of these colors.

As if all these colors aren’t anything against the shade of green Tachibana has.

And his hair, what color is his hair? More flipping happens while looking for the perfect shade of this so called color “brown” but the story repeats. Haruka supposes the correct shade would be “field drab” but it doesn’t feel just right. He throws the book away in exasperation. He’s just even more confused than before. Colors aren’t suppose to be felt, they are just supposed to be seen, after all. It’s ridiculous to not be able to choose the perfect shade of green and brown just because “they doesn’t feel right”.

Haruka covers his eyes with both hands while reclining the elbows over his knees. Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t look at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t know what he looks like with full colors – he never felt like asking Nagisa neither – and honestly he doesn’t feel like getting up to go for a mirror.

And, in the end, the question remains unanswered.

What is he supposed to do now?

The responsible thing would be to go to Tachibana’s and tell him, wouldn’t it? He guesses he also has this kind of feeling of wanting to be with him, but telling him so suddenly about it just seems wrong. Even if Haruka wants to be with Tachibana it’s all because he can see the colors, but the Tachibana can’t and so he doesn’t have this need be with Haruka.

He once again gets up. He has decided to go to Tachibana’s place and talk to him. Haruka won’t tell him about the true, destined lovers thing, but he still wants to be with him and get to know him. Maybe that way the confusing feelings will disappear.

The walk to Tachibana’s door obviously isn’t long, so it’s until he knocks on the door that doubts start to meddle in the back of his mind.

 _“What a stupid idea,”_ he thinks,  _“What excuse am I going to give him, anyways? I didn’t think of that, fuc—“_ but his train of thoughts is interrupted when a voice – a voice that makes his stomach jump when hearing it – behind the white door can be heard, asking who is it “It’s me. Nanase”

The door opens revealing the tall man.

“Hello, Nanase-kun, do you need anything? Oh, is the music too loud?” Tachibana turns his head a little to the back. Haruka, to be honest, hadn't noticed the music until the brunette mentions it.

“No,” he answers way too quickly for his own taste, “Not really.” Maybe this will make it more casual.

And then silence.

Haruka feels so ridiculous right now, so incredibly ridiculous that he’s sure his ancestors are having second-hand embarrassment. He isn’t used to this, to being social, to initiate the conversation. He’s used to people trying to reach him, and he keeping them away. Because people are annoying like that.

“Do you wanna come in?” Tachibana asks with the sweetest smile ever. Or maybe Haruka is actually a romantic asshole. Maybe.

“Thanks,” Haru murmurs loud enough for his neighbor to move out of the way.

When he enters, the first thing he perceives is the scent of food. It smells like green curry. The second thing he notices is the huge lack of furniture. He had thought that his place is empty, but Tachibana definitely takes the prize. It makes sense, though – Haruka thinks – this way there’s more room for Tachibana to walk freely without stomping or crashing into something. And Haruka doesn’t need to be a color expert to know that all these colors don’t combine well. He must start studying and memorizing that book from earlier.

But the structure of the apartment is basically the same as his.

“And how are you feeling in your new place?” Tachibana asks walking to the kitchen. Haru follows him and just now he notices that Tachibana isn’t using his cane.

“It’s nice,” he simply answers and obliges himself to continue, “The neighborhood is nice.”

“Yeah, it is.”

Just like Haruka has suspected, a pot of green curry is boiling at the stove, which Tachibana mixes it a bit with a big spoon.

“Do you wanna stay for lunch? I sometimes prepare too much food,” Tachibana invites him, a soft chuckle escaping from him afterwards.

“Sure.” Haruka sits down at the little table in front of the kitchen.

And then more silence.

Haru is getting desperate. First he comes in here without an excuse and now he stays quiet. Tachibana surely thinks he’s some kind of weirdo by now.

“Moving is always kind of scary, isn’t it?” Tachibana begins to talk, turning his body to face in Haruka’s general direction “It’s ok to be nervous.”

Oh. He thinks that Haru is nervous about moving to a new place, not nervous about being a complete stranger in someone else’s house and he’s trying to calm him down. What kind of perfect angel this guy is?

Haruka clenches his fists on his pants.

“And what do you do? Are you in college?” Tachibana asks as he leaves the big spoon next to the stove and turns his body to face him.

“Yes. I’m in Arts.” Haru knows perfectly well what question is going to follow.

“Oh, so you can see colors?” Tachibana closes his eyes with a smile. He actually looks excited. Haruka gulps hard.

“No, I can’t.”

He knows that lying is bad – mainly if you’re lying to your future lover – but it would be kind of weird to tell him that yes, he can see colors, but no, he isn’t in a relationship.

“Must be hard, then. Because you can’t see colors.” Tachibana looks somewhat apologetic but quickly changes again to his excited face. “But you’re also pretty brave!”

Haruka blushes a little because of the compliment, and his heart skips a beat when seeing the other’s smile.

“Thanks,” he simply replies, not sure of what to do next.

“I’m on Literature. So we both are part of the arts, huh?” He chuckles at his observation, as if it is actually funny. “Do you live alone?”

Haruka nods but then remembers Tachibana can’t see him, so he answers, “Yes.”

“Me too.” The conversation is interrupted when an alarm starts to go off. “Oh, food is ready.”

Tachibana turns off the little kitchen clock – that Haruka hadn't noticed before – and does the same to the stove. He then opens the cupboard to get two plates and serves them some rice with the green curry. All of this is done so masterfully that Haru has to remember himself that Tachibana can’t see.

But, then again, it makes sense that Tachibana is this good at moving by himself. He lives alone, after all.

“Here, Nanase-kun,” Tachibana says after getting close to his guest, placing the plate in front of him. “I’m sorry if it tastes weird, I’m not that good of a cook.” His smile is apologetic as he sits.

Haruka grabs the spoon next to the dish and scoops some rice with the curry, biting into it after blowing it cold a little.

It tastes kind of awful.

“Too much salt,” Haru concludes.

“Eh?! Did I mess up the salt again?!” He sounds sorry and then has a bite from his own plate. “Ugh, you’re right! Damn it.”

 _“Again?”_ Haruka thinks,  _“So this is not the first time?”_

“It’s not the first time it happens to me,” Tachibana says as if he had read Haruka’s mind, “I’m so sorry, Nanase-kun, I was being so cocky when I invited you and now—“

“It’s not that bad.” Yeah, it is pretty bad. “Do you have cream? That could fix it easily.”

“Oh, I do! Let me get it.” He gets up and opens the fridge, taking out the cream and giving it to Haru, along with a clean spoon once he returns to the table.

Haruka serves himself a spoonful of cream and proceeds to do the same on Tachibana’s plate, over the curry.

“Just mix it.” Haruka smiles a bit when seeing Tachibana obeying and then tasting it again.

“Wow, you were right! It does taste better. Thanks, Nanase-kun.”

“You can ask me advice for cooking whenever you feel like it.”

Wow, that sounds cocky.

“Thanks, Nanase-kun.”

Tachibana smiles one more time that magical smile of his that makes Haru’s heart to flutter.

“… you can call me Haru” he’s thankful Tachibana can’t see the red on his cheeks because that would be even more embarrassing. Tachibana at first looks surprised but finally smiles again.

“Then you can call me Makoto, Haru”

Haru slightly smiles. His name never sounded this good before. It’s as if Makoto’s tune of voice was made just to say his name, it’s as if his name was created just to be said by Makoto’s voice and lips. It makes him feel complete in a weird way.

“Yes, Makoto”

It seems his lips were also made to say the other’s name, because it feels as amazing.

After that, they continue to eat in silence. Curiously, it doesn’t feel like an awkward silence, it even feels comfortable. The nervousness from before finally disappeared from Haru’s guts, and now he can finally concentrate on Makoto’s whole being.

Makoto is tall and has broad shoulders, big hands and droppy gentle green eyes, his skin is a little darker than his own – tanned, maybe – and if his eyes doesn't play tricks on him, he could almost swear that there’s some hard muscle under those long sleeves of his plaid red – Haru thinks it’s red – shirt, and his lips are the perfect thick and shape to just plant a kis—woah, there, take it easy, Haruka.

The brunette and the guest finally finish eating and when Makoto is about to gather up the used plates, Haru gets up.

“I’ll do it” he says “Let me do it”

“Haru, you’re my guest. It wouldn’t be nice of me”

“I wanna do it” and without waiting for an answer, he starts to pick up the cutlery and dishes, taking them to the sink “I’m gonna wash them”

“Haru, you don’t have to” Makoto sounds kind of nervous “It really is ok”

“Let’s do it together, then. I wash and you rinse” Haruka turns on the faucet to fill up the sink with hot water and soap. He hears Makoto letting go a sigh behind him and then standing next to him.

Makoto starts to talk about himself while rinsing. Haruka discovers that his true destined lover has two younger siblings and they are twins, his favorite food is green curry and that’s why he’s been trying so hard to get it right, he has a friend named Rin Matsuoka – “He has a girly name but he’s actually a guy. Just like me!” Makoto said at the moment while laughing – that decided to pursue his dream of becoming a professional swimmer on Australia – that actually attracted Haru’s attention very much. He’s twenty years old and loves to read, that’s why he chose to major on Literature. Some day he would love to be a teacher.

“What about you, Haru?” he asks when he finished rising the last plate “Why did you choose Arts?”

“I like to paint. It’s relaxing”

“It’s kind of weird, though. Wanting Arts when you can’t see colors”

 _“You’re not the first one to say it”_ Haruka thinks to himself.

“But I bet you hear that all the time” once again it seems Makoto has read his mind.

A phone starts to ring and Makoto excuses himself, walking towards the counter to pick up the cellphone and answer.

“Hello? Ah, yes, hello, Rin” Haru’s attention is picked at the mention of that name. He’s interested on everything relating to Makoto and that also means he should be interested on his friends “Sure, you and Yamazaki can come. Ah, don’t bring anything; I have enough food for both of you”

Haruka rests against the fridge with his back on it, looking directly to Makoto’s face as he hears him talk. He would like to stay and meet this so called "Rin Matsuoka" – and now Yamazaki – but it would be kind of weird to ask to stay. And he has his own guests to deal with, anyways.

“Yes, I cooked. Why do you ask?” the brunette stops talking, surely because Rin Matsuoka is answering the question “Ah, rude! I’ll have you know that I’m getting better at cooking!”

Haru almost snorts because he knows that’s a lie.

“Anyways, come at 5 PM, alright? Ok, bye” Makoto hangs up and sighs “What a mess… now I’ll get embarrassed when they taste my green curry and it’s horrible”

“You can fix it with the cream” Haru reminds the brunette “You would just need to boil it a little bit more so the cream combines better with the rest of it” he stays silent for a moment before continuing “Want me to do it?”

Maybe he’s just asking because he wants an excuse to stay longer. He sure hopes it doesn’t sound desperate.

“No, it’s ok, Haru. You’ve helped me enough” Makoto chuckles and Haru thinks it’s like an angel’s singing – maybe Nagisa wasn’t exaggerating after all –.

“I see” Haruka resigns to the possibility of staying for more time “I should get going. Thanks for the food” he gulps and keeps talking “Next time you could come to my place to eat together”

Makoto seems surprised at the invitation at first, but then he smiles.

“It would be my pleasure, Haru”

And with that, Makoto accompanies Haru to the door and says farewell to the neighbor.

 

 

A few hours later, Haruka is studying his colors book sitting at the ugly-color couch of the living room. He has concluded that he should learn all the names of the colors and their shade if he wants to understand better how the world works. But he stops when he hears some noise coming from the other side of the wall, after checking the clock hanging in the wall he corroborates his theory that Makoto’s guests – Rin Matsuoka and Yamazaki, right? – finally arrived.

He could hear a loud voice that doesn’t belong to Makoto, complaining about the train full of people that doesn’t know what “personal space” is. “Good thing Sousuke is a fucking gorilla” he is able to discern. Oh, so that voice must be Matsuoka's. Man, he sounds annoying as fuck.

Haruka stops listening because he isn’t some kind of creep and continues with his learning. It’s 5 PM, so that means that Nagisa and Rei should be arriving in an hour.

Should he tell them about the recent discovery of his true destined lover? Maybe they had some advice for him on what the fuck to do. Well, maybe Rei’s advice would be more useful than Nagisa’s though.

His mind drifts to the visit he did hours earlier. Before it, he was kind of confused of what he felt about Makoto, but after spending some mere hour and a half with him, he is sure that Makoto Tachibana is, without any doubt, perfect in any sense of the world.

He’s sure that every single person that found their true destined lover surely thinks the same about theirs, though.

Point is, he definitely wants to spend the rest of his life with that man.

 

* * *

 

“This doesn’t taste bad!” Rin compliments after grabbing a spoonful of green curry with rice “You did a good job this time, Makoto”

“Told you so” Makoto bloats his chest in pride “But actually, I got a little help from my new neighbor” he laughs nervously at his confession.

“That makes more sense” Rin snorts.

“New neighbor?” Yamazaki asks with his serious tune of voice. He’s sitting next to Rin at the table.

Makoto doesn’t get along with Yamazaki that much, not because he thinks his friend’s boyfriend is bad or anything, but they never talk much if Rin isn’t in the picture. When the professional swimmer went back to Australia, Yamazaki practically disappeared from Makoto’s life. Rin assures Makoto that Yamazaki is really funny and playful, but loves to feign coolness when other people are around. Oh, yeah, and he sometimes is an asshole – or so says Rin.

“Yeah, he moved just yesterday. We had lunch together today, and he told me how to fix the curry. I messed up the salt again” he lets go a tired sigh “I wonder if I’ll ever be able to cook without screwing it up”

“I think there’s a bigger possibility of pigs flying than that happening, Makoto” Rin teases with a grin.

“You’re so rude, Rin!” Makoto complains.

 

* * *

 

At 6 PM, Haruka is opening his front door to find a little blond with sparkly pink eyes with a tall man of purple deep eyes behind red glasses. It obviously is the first time he has seen his friends in full colors and it almost takes his breath away. It’s amazing how the world can change so much for something as little as colors.

“Haru-chan! How are you?!” the smaller man says as he throws himself in a hug over the apartment’s host “Are you missing me yet?”

“It’s been only a day, Nagisa” Haru replies without hugging the blond back, but letting him hang from his neck “Hello, Rei”

“Good afternoon, Haruka-senpai!” Rei is smiling while talking. It doesn’t matter how many times Haru asks Rei to sop calling him that, it has the same effect of asking Nagisa to stop calling him "Haru-chan": null.

“Come on in” the dark-haired man moves out of the way so the two guests can enter the place.

Nagisa lets go from the hugging and with a little skipping he is at the living room.

“This is a nice place!” the blond says after he twirls to see the room better, then his eyes stares at the ugly couch “That’s an ugly color for a couch, tho”

Haru is about to agree when he stops. He still isn’t sure if he should tell his friends about him being able to see colors, being sure that Nagisa wouldn’t stop pestering him with questions he would rather not answer at the moment.

“Nagisa, you shouldn’t say that” Rei nags his young boyfriend “Ah, Haruka-senpai, we brought some cake to celebrate your moving”

“It’s strawberry shortcake!” Nagisa is clearly excited. Surely he had chosen what kind of cake they should buy.

For a moment Haruka had forgotten just how loud his blond friend really is. Oh, right, the walls are thin.

“Nagisa, be more quiet, please. The walls are really thin here”

“Oh!” Nagisa covers his mouth with both hands, and whispers “Sorry. But what a pain in the ass” he stays quiet for a moment “You won’t be able to masturbate in peace”

“Nagisa!” Rei’s cheeks are bright red.

Soon enough, the three are sitting at the table eating the cake with some tea. Haru, as usual, is silent while letting the other two fill the room with their rambles – Rei is saying something about the cake being symmetrical and being beautiful because of that – and Nagisa’s laughs.

Haruka once read that finding food delicious is like 30% smell, 20% actual taste and 50% color. And he couldn’t agree more if he tried. This simple strawberry cake tastes delicious for him, with its big red and sweet strawberries, the soft and white cream, and the moist and yellow bread. He could continue eating this thing forever, no wonder it’s Nagisa’s favorite food.

“Have you met your neighbors, Haru-chan?” the younger man asks him suddenly, getting him out of his thoughts.

“Just one. The one next door”

“Are they a woman or a man? Are they hot?”

“Nagisa, may I remind you that I’m present?” Rei says with a bit tint of jealousy in his voice.

“Rei-chan, calm down. You know you’re the hottest for me” Nagisa pats him strongly on the shoulder and then blows him a kiss from his place, making Rei to blush strongly.

The dark-haired man remembers the moment he was eating with the brunette, a few hours ago. It was so comfortable and peaceful, he felt like he belongs next to Makoto. He wonders if Nagisa and Rei feel the same about each other. Maybe that’s why they spend all of their free time together.

He would love that, too.

“I can…” Haruka starts talking, making the other two to look at him with those colorful eyes “I can see colors now”

For a few seconds that felt like hours, nobody says anything, with the two guests still staring at Haru without blinking. For a moment Haru starts to regret he said anything, but then Nagisa breaks the silence with a loud voice.

“Haru-chan!! That’s amazing!! Oh, I’m so happy for you!!” the blond stands up and hugs Haru again by the neck, pushing his cheek against the other’s. His pink eyes are tearing up by now.

“Congratulations, Haruka-senpai! No wonder you seemed different today!” the other man on the room exclaims.

“Who is it?! What’s their name?!” Nagisa insists, shaking Haruka by the shoulders.

“Makoto Tachibana”

“Ohhh! What a cute name for a girl!” the smaller man is now jumping.

“Not a girl” Haru corrects him, looking at him seriously “Makoto is a guy” and with that, Nagisa starts to laugh loudly.

“Haruka and Makoto! Both dudes with dicks and girly names!!” his laughing is so hard he has to grab his stomach from the pain “You are meant to be!!”

“Where did you meet him, Haruka-senpai?” Rei asks him, fully knowing that sometimes ignoring Nagisa is the best course of action.

“He’s my neighbor, I met him today” Nagisa stops laughing when hearing this.

“Oh?! And why did you not invite him to come see us?! Let’s go!” but when he’s about to run to the front door, Haru stands up and grabs him by the arm, Nagisa looks at him confused “Haru-chan?”

“He…” Haru is looking at the floor, not brave enough to hold his eyes up “He doesn’t know”

The confusing feeling on Nagisa’s and Rei’s faces increase with that last sentence. The one with purple eyes stands up slowly.

“What do you mean, Haruka-senpai?”

 

* * *

 

Rin and Makoto are still sitting at the table, Yamazaki is at the bathroom. The red-headed is resting his cheek on his hand, looking at the brunette who keeps talking and talking about this neighbor of name Haru.

“He doesn’t talk much” Makoto says with a smile “But whenever he does, his words are so heavy or something. Not in a negative way, though!” he immediately adds “But more like he doesn’t need to talk a lot? Like, he can project his message with a few words. Am I making any sense?”

“Not really” Rin replies “He sounds like a weird guy, being honest. I mean, who in their right mind would try to major in Arts when they can’t even see colors?”

“Well, I think it’s brave”

“And I think it’s ridiculous”

“He’s a nice guy, he helped me a lot today and we just met a few hours ago” Makoto smiles as he feels a warm sensation in his heart “I really liked having him around” Rin doesn’t say anything and for a moment the brunette thinks he’s alone in the room “Rin?”

“Yeah, I’m here, it’s just—“ he interrupts his talking with a sigh “Be careful, ok?”

“What do you mean?”

“It wouldn’t the first time someone trying to fuck somebody before meeting their destined lover, you know?” Makoto blushes at his friend’s insinuation.

People having sex with others before finding their true destined lover isn’t that weird. It isn’t well received by old society, nonetheless, because there’s this way of thinking that you should wait for your true, destined lover. Why the hell would you even have sex with anyone besides your destined lover, anyways?

Some people think it’s a rather retrograde way of thinking, though, and some kind of “liberal revolution” started a few years ago. They say that sexual freedom shouldn’t be determined by something as random as seeing colors. Mainly when the possibility of never finding that true destined lover is really high.

Makoto personally doesn’t know where he stands in that aspect. He may think that if someone destined is waiting for you then you don’t really have any rush to start being sexual, but then again, he won’t ever find his destined lover any time soon.

He thinks it’s something more personal than just that. Every person can make their own decisions, right?

“Rin, don’t talk like that! You don’t even know Haru”

“And you do?” the brunette doesn’t have an answer for that “Look, I’m just telling you to be careful, I don’t want you to get hurt by some horny asshole”

At that, Makoto softly smiles and nods. Rin has always been protective of those he loves, so it isn’t strange for him to act like this.

“Don’t worry, Rin”

 

* * *

 

“He’s…” Nagisa starts.

“Blind?” and Rei finishes. Haru just nods at them.

“I’ve never heard of these cases” the blond comments with his hand on his chin, thinking “And at school they never talked about this, right?” he looks at Rei.

“No, they don’t. Kind of non-inclusive, now that I think about it” the purple-eyed adds “But why didn’t you tell him, Haruka-senpai?”

“I thought it would be kind of creepy to just go and tell him that” Haru shrugs “He didn’t seem to have this natural attraction to me, the attraction that it’s meant to happen naturally when seeing your destined lover”

“The obvious conclusion for that would be because of his condition” Rei says with his characteristic movement of glasses “So the link is interrupted because it couldn’t finish with Tachibana-kun’s own eyes”

“Whatever the reason” the dark-haired continues to talk “I don’t really know what to do”

“Eh? But it’s obvious, Haru-chan!” both men look at him with questioning faces “You need to make him fall in love with you!”

“W—What?” Haru stutters.

“Is that even possible?” Rei asks “Falling in love with just courtship? That’s unheard of”

Haruka tries to remember any kind of literature or movie or **anything** inside the media that has that theme but couldn’t name even one. All society is so obsessed with the idea of finding true destined love via eyes and colors that the possibility of finding it any other way is simply non-existent.

What word did Rei use? Ah, yeah.

Non-inclusive.

“Look, Haru-chan, Mako-chan is your true destined lover and you must fight for him!” he has his fists in front of his chest, but then directs one hand towards Rei’s closest, grabbing it and interlacing their fingers together “You had the fortune to have found your true destined lover. Don’t let it pass because you’re afraid”

“I have to agree with Nagisa on this one, Haruka-senpai” Rei says with a soft smile.

Haru just looks at them both, his face surely reflects just boredom but inside of him a storm is occurring.

But now that he pays more attention, it seems the storm noise is coming from outside. It’s not even a storm, but mere rain. With that last piece of advice, Rei and Nagisa say their farewells before the rain gets stronger.

 

 

It’s already dark when Haruka is lying on his bed, looking at the roof because apparently his brain decided that sleeping is for the weak. The rain indeed got stronger and now even lightings could be heard, illuminating the room through the only window at the wall.

Nagisa’s words are still running in his mind. Making Makoto fall in love with him? How is he supposed to do that? His whole life he had been taught to just wait to see colors, and now he’s supposed to be some kind of romantic expert or some shit.

He remembers what he felt the moment he saw Nagisa took Rei’s hand. He felt envy and excitement. Haruka also wants that, he wants to feel Makoto’s hand with his own.

A really strong lighting strikes really close to the building, making a loud cracking noise through the air. But Haru hears something else besides the lighting, a little yell, something like a yelping, coming from the other side of the wall.

Haruka’s bed is against the right wall of the room, so he sits down and stares at the wall. Has he heard right? His curiosity wins over him and lifting his right hand he gives the wall two soft knocks, not really sure of what he is expecting.

When nothing new happens, Haruka decides to lay down again with his back facing the wall.

Another two soft knocks are heard.

The dark-haired immediately sits down and looks at the wall.

 

* * *

 

Rin and Yamazaki had left his apartment hours ago and Makoto is on his room, he’s getting ready to sleep by changing into his pajamas.

It’s been raining for hours and now it has gotten worse, with lightings and everything. He hates lightings, he could never guess when is happening the next one and the sudden noise always scares him; mainly because it cuts his ability to hear for a brief moment. And that leaves him with an impotent sensation inside of him.

“Haru’s been silent for a while, hasn’t he?” he tells himself in hopes of ignoring the storm outside his safe room “Wow, that actually sounded a little creepy, didn’t it?” he laughs a little.

But before anything else could be said or done, a loud noise from outside makes him yell and let go of his shirt to the floor. His heart is running against his chest as if it wants to get out of it to get away from that place in the fastest way possible. The brunette is even trembling a little and has some trouble to regain control of his hands again, picking the shirt from the floor.

He really, **really** hates lightings.

A soft noise distracts him from his fear. Two soft knocks coming from behind him. If his deductions are correct, it sounded from the other side of the wall.

Makoto’s bed is against the left wall of his room. He puts on the shirt and climbs over the bed, touching the wall with his big hand. Has he heard correctly?

Just to be sure, he knocks two times.

A few seconds later, another knock from behind the wall is heard.

Makoto can’t help but giggle because he knows it’s Haru at the other side of the wall knocking. The brunette knocks a last time.

“I’m ok. Thank you, Haru!” he yells, hoping that the other man could hear him.

Another knock is heard and Makoto’s smile widens.

He lies down on his bed and covers himself with the sheet. Curiously, he doesn’t feel as scared as a few seconds ago.

_“Look, I’m just telling you to be careful, I don’t want you to get hurt by some horny asshole”_

Rin’s words replay on his mind.

Silly Rin, Haru would never harm him, not intentionally. Even if Makoto isn’t exactly sure how he knows that for a fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a little rest I'm back for this story! This is the longest chapter I've ever written, btw! Oof.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s kind of ridiculous how nervous he’s feeling for something as simple as this.

Is the next morning and Haruka is standing in front of the bathroom’s door, hesitant to enter. He’s feeling a little awkward and weird about it because inside of that room is the only mirror in the whole house. The dark-haired is ashamed to confess that he hasn’t seen himself on a mirror since being able to see colors, that being yesterday.

Even though he isn’t exactly sure why, the mere idea brings him some kind of uneasy feeling. He has been ok with his color-less image since forever, he likes that gray-scale version of him, and something he doesn’t like are sudden changes. What if he doesn’t like this new him? What if he gets that distasteful feeling he gets every time he sees the ugly-color couch on his living room?

Society never mentions anything like this in media, or the school, or your parents, or anyone at all. All of those groups only talk about how amazing colors are, and how amazing finding your true destined lover is, and how amazing life is because of that. Being able to see colors is such a drastic change, Haru thinks, now he has to learn all the colors there are in the world with their names and it isn’t as easy as it sounds. He can’t easily differentiate between salmon pink and melon pink – wait, is that even a type of pink? Or is it a type of orange? UGH – and his head hurts every time he tries to remember all the shades there are of blue.

What makes everything even more annoying – and honestly stressful – is that the whole world is so obsessed with seeing colors. The whole world acts and believes that seeing colors is the ultimate demonstration of love and happiness.

Makoto’s smile comes to his mind.

How does Makoto feel inside this world and society obsessed with colors and seeing? Haru could almost swear that everything in the world is marketed to people able to see.

He remembers the first day he went to college.

The memories come back to his mind as if it was just yesterday. It was the first class and the professor, an old man with big lenses and a hideous mustache, jokingly asked who wasn’t able to see colors. Everyone laughed but soon ceased when he slowly raised his hand. The laughs turned into whispering and the professor’s incredulous face still haunts Haru's memories from time to time.

The professor half-hearted apologized for the joke – “It’s only a joke!” he said with a smirk – and continued with the class.

Later on, Haruka would learn that it wasn’t actually **that weird** for people not being able to see colors to join the Arts major, but that the majority of them “mysteriously” decided to stop and went for another thing, but Haru could put all of his bets on what was what made them decide to quit.

The dark-haired is glad that he’s so stubborn, because even if his classmates and professors try their best to make it appear as it is nothing; the whispering sometimes still reach his ears.

_“I don’t know what he’s doing here. I mean, he’s good and all, but he can’t see colors”_

They often say on a low voice, hoping that Haruka won’t listen.

_“He should have decided for something else”_

The other students would say.

_“Nanase-kun, I hope this assignment isn’t much for you due to your... 'condition'”_

The professors often say with a fake apologetic smile and voice.

But Haruka, as said, is stubborn and he wouldn’t let the others to fuck up his goal of graduating in fucking Arts because that’s what he fucking wants.

A sigh escapes from his lips but the weight on his shoulders doesn’t dissipate. If anything, the weight gets heavier because the idea of what he lives on college must be just a part of what Makoto has to live for the rest of his life is truly sickening. He can almost imagine it, people giving the brunette sad looks and treating him like someone destined to unhappiness. All this time Makoto Tachibana has had to deal with the world and society on his own, but now Haruka Nanase is on the scene and he will fight along with Makoto for a better future.

That is, when Haruka actually tells Makoto that they are destined to be.

With a new found determination, the dark-haired opens the door and enters the bathroom, immediately looking at the mirror and for a moment he thinks his heart stops working.

His skin is light, a little lighter than Makoto’s, the threads of hair crowning his head are black. But what calls him the most are his eyes. A deep blue that for some reason feels alive and heavy, just like the ocean. It feels as if his eyes could eat him whole. Haruka wonders if it’s just him or everybody feels the same about their eyes. He must remember to ask Nagisa or Rei the next time he talks to them.  

 

* * *

 

It’s a Sunday morning, and these are Makoto’s favorite mornings because he can relax a little more. He can stay longer at bed while reading an unfinished book, take longer showers, and listen to music peacefully because he doesn’t have anything outstanding to do. Except this time his cell phone rings with Gou’s music tune.

The alarm he has had set made its call at 9 AM, so under Makoto’s calculations it should be 10 AM by now.

“Hello, Gou-chan” Makoto says with glee once he picks up the cellphone.

“It’s Kou!” the girly voice replies at the other side of the line and Makoto can’t help a smile getting into his lips.

“What is it? It’s weird for you to call me this early on Sunday”

“Ah, I called to invite you to a picnic! My older brother and Yamazaki-kun are going”

Makoto can bet it was Gou’s idea, but that Rin happily agreed because picnics at the country side are romantic like that. And yet, he still wonders if Rin has thought that it would be pretty impossible to get in romantic atmosphere with Gou and himself, Makoto, in the middle.

“Sure, Gou-chan, sounds fun. Yesterday rained, so the weather must be nice”

The moment he mentions the rain, his mind drifts to Haruka. Being honest, Makoto last night was sure that he wouldn’t be able to sleep because of the lightings and strong sounds of the storm, but for some reason the idea of the other man behind the wall put his nerves at rest with those silly knocks out of nowhere.

“Hey, Gou-chan, could I invite someone?” he tentatively asks, not wanting to sound demanding.

“Mmh? Someone?” she sounds curious and interested.

“He’s my new neighbor. It seems he doesn’t know a lot of people around here, so I thought—“

“Makoto-senpai is as nice as always!” a gleeful giggle floods his ears “Sure, I don’t think there would be any problem at all. The merrier, the better!”

After agreeing on an hour and a place to meet, they hang up and Makoto gets up from bed. He takes a quick shower and something light to eat because he’s sure that Gou and Rin will cook for the whole military.

He decides to wear a simple pair of jeans with a green blazer and a white t-shirt under it. He should be quick if he wants to invite Haru. So after grabbing his trusty white and red cane, he opens the door and knocks on his neighbor’s.

With a smile, he waits and waits but nothing happens. Maybe Haru is already out of his place? It wouldn’t be that weird. Just out of curiosity, he grabs the knob and turns it, surprising him when it opens easily.

“Man… it’s a nice neighborhood but this is too much” he says on a whisper.

But a sudden thought invades his mind like a rock being thrown to the water. What if something happened to Haru?

With a gulp, he enters the place and the unfamiliar air immediately takes him in. If he guesses correctly, their apartments shouldn’t be that different except for the furniture and for some reason he has this idea that Haru isn’t the kind of person to have a lot of possessions. Makoto slowly advances making the wood under his feet creak and moving his cane around with light pokes.

Following his mental image of his own apartment, he’s walking by the living room with the kitchen at the left, the bathroom should be after the living room and after that the bedroom – their bedrooms are on the same wall, he remembers. What makes him nervous is that he doesn’t hear anything out of place, no breathing, not cracking besides him, no movements. Maybe Haru is out of the apartment and simply forgot to lock the door. He still decides to take a last shot.

“Haru?” he says and something else besides him finally sounds, so now he’s sure he isn’t alone in the place “Haru, are you there?”

He follows the sound and soon he’s touching the wall looking for a door or something. The sound comes from the left side of his head, by now he should have passed the kitchen. His hand finally finds something, a door nonetheless. How weird, his apartment doesn’t have this door, maybe it’s a closet? Maybe Haru got locked in by mistake. Makoto snorts at the thought.

“Haru, it’s me, Makoto” he says with a smile as he opens the door wide, being received by a wet atmosphere. Makoto immediately knows what a big mistake he has done.

“Makoto—“ Haru’s voice sounds slightly surprised.

More sounds appear and just now Makoto recognizes them, they are water sounds. They are sounds of something moving inside the water and now the brunette feels his face burn and he’s pretty sure it isn’t because of the warm air inside the room.

He just entered Haru’s bathroom with him in the bath.

“I’m sorry!” Makoto yells and closes the door behind him once he gets outside.

It’s ridiculous how fast his heart is running, it’s going so fast it almost hurts against his chest and apparently his lungs forgot how to function because all of his breath just went out of his body in a single second. His face is still burning so he covers it with a hand in hopes of cooling it down but it doesn’t help when he realizes that he’s trembling wholly and how his knees are also shaking.

“Makoto?”

The sudden calling of his name makes him jerk away from the door, but it doesn’t open, so Haru must be still inside the bathroom.

“Y—yes, Haru?!” crap, he’s talking way too loud.

“Go sit in the living room. I’ll be out in a moment”

“Yes!” **stop talking so loud, jeez**.

Taking control of his shaky legs, the brunette goes to the living room and sits on the individual couch with the cane between his knees. He’s still trembling a little less strongly and he just noticed just how dry his throat is, making him feel thirsty all of the sudden.

Why is the bathroom in that side? In his own apartment it’s at the right side, not the left. Maybe their apartments aren’t as alike as he had originally thought.

Just as said, the bathroom opens after a moment and Makoto can hear footsteps coming his way.

“Makoto” his name again on that neutral voice of Haru “Makoto, are you ok?”

Damn, he must look like garbage if Haru is asking **him** if he is ok.

“Y—yes, Haru” Makoto answers with a nervous laugh, he knows his companion is in front of him because his sooth voice is coming from that direction.

“Did you need anything?”

Ah, right, he’s supposed to invite Haru to the picnic, but now he isn’t sure if he wants to. Maybe Haru will say no, maybe Haru won’t want to talk to him ever again, maybe Haru won’t invite him again to eat lunch together—

“Makoto” his name once again because he hasn’t answered.

“Uhm! I came here to invite you to a picnic with me and some friends!” he stands up quickly and he can feel his shoulders being tense. Grabbing strongly his cane with both hands, he continues talking, “That is if you want to come, of course!”

Silence invades the room and Makoto’s fears begin to crawl all over his chest again. Maybe Haru indeed is mad at him for entering not only his house without permission, but also into the bathroom while he was inside. But then a sudden gasp that curiously sounded like a snort comes to his ears.

“Sure, Makoto, I’ll go”

That simple sentence makes the heaviness on Makoto’s chest disappear in an instant.

“I—I see!” he smiles because he’s honestly glad that Haru accepted but his voice still trembles “Well, we need to meet with everyone in an hour and a half, so if you have anything to do before that…”

“Let’s go”

 

* * *

 

They are walking in the middle of the city’s center to the train station. Makoto hasn’t said any word since they left his apartment and Haru can only guess that it’s because he’s still feeling embarrassed at what happened. It’s kind of ridiculous, Haru thinks, taking into consideration that Makoto didn’t see anything. But well, Haruka is the first one to admit that he often forgets about that fine line of social embarrassment. But he still thinks that Makoto getting embarrassed over it it’s cute.

When he heard Makoto’s voice at the other side of the door, he was surprised to hear him. But then his surprise turned into amazement when the brunette opened the door with that wide smile and gleeful voice; then everything changed when Makoto realized to where he had entered and his full face got a bright shade of red and the final cherry on top of the scene was his embarrassed screaming.

“Cute” is definitely the correct word to use in this case.

“Makoto-senpai!” a small girl of red hair wearing a yellow dress with a denim cardigan calls his companion in front of the train station.

She’s accompanied by two other guys, both taller than her. The tallest of them has tanned skin and black hair, a teal color adorning his droopy eyes and all of his body has a threatening feeling to it; he’s wearing black jeans and a red blazer. The other man has light skin and red is the color of his eyes and hair; he’s wearing brown jeans and a sweater with tiger print, under it he’s wearing a black tank-top, he’s carrying some kind of big basket. They look so different from each other, but they have one thing in common:

Both of them are staring at Haru.

“Hello, Gou-chan” Makoto greets, he looks way more relaxed than before.

“Hello, Makoto” the man with red hair says, looking at him now with a smile. Are those sharpened teeth, **seriously**?

The other man follows his lead and also greets the brunette with a simple “Hey”.

“You must be Makoto-senpai’s new neighbor” the girl says to him with a smile and then does a little bow “I’m Matsuoka Kou, I’m on Literature just like Makoto-senpai”

That would explain the senpai on the name. Wait, didn’t Makoto just call her “Gou-chan”? Maybe a nickname.

“I’m Matsuoka Rin” the one with sharpened teeth says out of nowhere “And this is Yamazaki Sousuke” he points to the other man with a little movement of his head “My partner”

Oh, then both of them obviously must look colors. And this Matsuoka guy must be the swimmer and the annoying voice he had heard yesterday complaining about trains. He’s having second thoughts about this picnic. He can easily confess that he isn’t a social person – because the majority of people annoy him – but he has accepted to come so he could spend time with his true destined – unaware – lover.

“This is Nanase Haruka” Makoto speaks instead of him, maybe he is able to sense Haru’s uncomfortable aura “He’s my neighbor”

“Yeah, I know that” Matsuoka says with his smile disappearing “You wouldn’t stop talking about him yesterday”

“Rin!” Haru can perceive an already-known flush of red on Makoto’s face and the word "cute" repeats itself without control on his mind.

Wait, did Matsuoka just say that Makoto wouldn’t stop talking about him yesterday? His heart dances in happiness and satisfaction. Maybe his visit to the brunette’s place wasn’t a bad idea, if that means he could infiltrate on his everyday life’s conversation.

“Don’t fight, boys!” the girl of name Kou nags at them with an authoritative tune, crossing her arms in front of her chest “And let’s hurry up so we can take the train” her smile reflected just how honestly excited she was.

Thankfully the train isn’t as packed as Haruka would have thought, so they all can take seats – that are packed on groups of four, but Kou being small fitted perfectly next to Haru –.

“So, Haru” she starts to talk to him “Are you in college?” he nods “What are you studying?”

“Arts” here it comes.

“Oh! Then you can see colors?!” she looks excited, so Haru concludes that she isn’t able to see them.

“No, I can’t” he doesn’t have other option but to lie. He just hopes that all this lying doesn’t come back later to bite him in the ass.

“Why did you even decide to major in Arts, then?” Matsuoka asked, his voice tastes of sourness and precaution. What is his problem? Whatever it is, Haruka isn’t interested on answering that question to Matsuoka because **fuck** , he’s so annoying.

“He thinks doing art is relaxing” Makoto replies on his behalf with a smile and Haru thanks the heavens for this perfect angel “Besides, what is important in Arts is the expression of the message and what makes you feel. It doesn’t matter how it is presented”

To this, Matsuoka finally stays put with a simple “tsk” and watches the panorama trough the window.

“By the way, brother” Kou calls the other redhead. So they indeed are siblings, as Haruka had suspected earlier “How is your muscle training? I hope you aren’t being lazy just because you’re on a vacation”

“Of course not” the red-eyed responds with a serious tune, but still looking away on the window “I still go to the swimming pool every day” his eyes divert towards Haruka for a moment, but without moving his head “Do you swim?”

How the fuck does this guy even know that? Haru doesn’t remember telling Makoto about his swimming hobby.

“Yes” he replies, thinking that denying it would be useless.

“I guessed that much” his face changed and he finally looked more happy and, Haru dare to say, interested “Your shape says it, even though you aren’t competitive, right?”

“Ah, I didn’t know, Haru. What a surprise” Makoto mentions with a smile.

“You’ve only known him for a day, it isn’t that surprising” Matsuoka says, arching his eyebrow at his friend.

“Oh” the brunette’s face is slightly red “You’re right”

“Is it just a hobby, then, Nanase?” the redhead’s attention is centered again on him.

“Yes”

“We should race someday” he smiles showing all of those sharpened teeth. Seriously, what purpose did have doing that to your mouth?

“Don’t you think it would be unfair, Rin?” Yamazaki speaks for the first time in a while, his voice is deep and Haru is sure it would be pretty threatening in the right conditions “He isn’t competitive and you are”

“It would be just a harmless race” the other answers, shrugging as if nothing “What do you say, Nanase?”

Haruka really doesn’t want to race this guy, racing isn’t his thing, it goes against everything he feels about water and its peacefulness. But this race could be another excuse to spend some time with Makoto. His blue eyes diverts for an instant to the body sitting next to him, being this Makoto, and then go back to the red eyes fixed on him that, if his mind didn’t play tricks on him, could almost be sure that they are reflecting suspicion.

“Ok” he finally accepts, hoping that he doesn’t regret it later.

An hour later, they are already on the country side. Kou has had done some research and found a nice place specifically for picnics on a park. The walking to there from the train station isn’t that far and soon enough they are already preparing the picnic table. Matsuoka is extending the tablecloth over the furniture while Kou is placing various types of bentos over it.

Haruka stands next to them but is clearly distracted. It’s the first time he has seen so much green in an sole place. Tokio has trees, but never as much in quantity like this. The yellowish sun passing through the green leaves, making them look as if they are shining. The sky is the perfect shade of blue with white and fluffy clouds that doesn’t look anything like yesterday that were dark and gray. A warm and soft wind caresses his skin and brings a flowery scent to his nose, so he takes a deep breath to let the atmosphere take him even more. Then his blue eyes center on Makoto, who is standing just ahead of him and talking with Kou.

Makoto looks as if he was born to just exist in this kind of world to make it perfect.

“Oi, Nanase!” the male Matsuoka calls him, bringing him out of his deep thoughts “What are you waiting for?” he stays quiet for a moment and then continues talking “Or is it the first time you see the country side this clearly?”

For some reason, Haruka feels the last question as an attack.

He decides to not reply such an annoying question and sits next to Makoto.

“Don’t be like that, Rin” the brunette says, still smiling but Haru can recognize a motherly warning tune on his voice “You are gonna scare Haru” he laughs at his little joke.

Idiotic Makoto, he would never be scared of Matsuoka.

“My brother may seem really scary, but he’s actually really sentimental” Kou provides to the conversation as she takes a black box of bento “He still cries with Ghibli movies”

“I don’t do that!” the other tries to defend himself, but Haru can see the light red color on both of his cheeks.

“Yes, you do” this time Yamazaki is the one who talks, and so he receives an angry look from his boyfriend.

“You asshole”

Makoto laughs at them and Haru sees him, not wanting to lose any moment of how magical his face looks when he smiles and closes his eyes, making those little creases appear next to his eyes, showing just how content he is with the situation. Not to mention that his laugh is the perfect tune and **fuck** he’s in too deep with this guy.

The food starts to slowly disappear from the bento boxes. All of it has been prepared by the two Matsuoka and it is quiet rich and assorted. There are egg rolls, little sausages with cut shapes of octopus – that, to everyone’s surprise, were made by the older Matsuoka himself –, different kinds of vegetables such as tiny tomatoes, sliced cucumber and carrots. On the protein department, there is chicken grilled with soy sauce and onions. Everything tastes really good for Haruka, thanks to his new ability of seeing colors.

“This is really good, Gou-chan” Makoto says just before taking an eggroll.

 _“Gou-chan again?”_ Haru thinks to himself.

“Ah, Gou-chan is her real name” Makoto explains to Haru.

“I’ve told you to call me Kou! Jeez, everything was good until you called me Gou” the girl complains with an exasperated face.

“Don’t be like that, your name is nice” her brother says, not looking at her because he’s busy picking another sausage with the chopsticks.

“You’re the one to talk, RinRin” she grins when the redhead jerks a little.

“Shut up!”

The eating continues until the last piece of eggroll finally disappears inside of Yamazaki’s mouth. After that, they decide to take a walk by the park since the sun is nice and calm. The terrain isn’t completely flat, so Gou – or is it Kou? – helps Makoto by grabbing his arm and telling him beforehand what is in front. This time it’s Yamazaki who is carrying the bag with the now empty bento boxes. Matsuoka and he are walking a little further from them, talking, and Haru can see how sometimes the redhead would get closer to Yamazaki or bump their shoulders together. Maybe the red-eyed just wants to hold hands but is restraining himself because they aren’t alone.

“Coming here was an excellent idea, Gou-chan” the brunette starts to talk with a smile “The sun feels really nice, and it’s a good change from the noisy college”

“It is, right? But it was Rin’s idea, actually” she says the last part on a whisper “I bet he just wanted to have a picnic with Yamazaki-kun but it’s too much of a wuss to ask him alone, that’s why he asked **me** to go with them, but no way in hell I would be a third wheel” she sighs at the simple thought of that “That’s why I called you, Makoto-senpai”

Her red eyes then look at the blue ones on Haruka.

“And then you got invited, Nanase-kun, I hope you’re having fun. Sorry to drag you in this mess” she sticks out her tongue in a playful way.

Haru shakes his head to assure the girl that he indeed is fine, but then remembers that Makoto also needs audio confirmation.

“It’s ok” he says with his monotonous voice that he hopes doesn’t throw off the girl or Makoto.

He can see Kou – or is it Gou? – smiling kind of nervously, but it’s glad to see that Makoto seems as fine as always, smiling happily. Maybe Makoto is better at recognizing tunes of voice than other people.

 

* * *

          

His nervousness finally disappeared when they ate and now he is feeling really content. Makoto loves to be with his friends, they are nice to talk and he knows he’ll have fun if any of them is involved. And now adding Haru to the equation makes everything better. The artist may not talk a lot, and when he does it’s really little, but he’s fun to be with.

And, being honest, Makoto has just discovered that he feels at ease if Haruka is present. He’s the first one to confess that that is kind of ridiculous because Rin is right, he has just known him for half a day. But still, he can’t explain exactly why it happens, maybe it has something to do with last night, with Haru knocking on the wall. Even if his neighbor wasn’t actively trying to calm Makoto, he got to sleep better after that.

He hears Gou saying sorry to Haru and then he can feel how the girl tenses a little when the man just answers with an “it’s ok”. Makoto tries his best to not giggle. Haru’s presence can be a little overwhelming; he’s so silent that sometimes it seems he isn’t even there and whenever he talks his voice sounds so bored and, Makoto dare to say, annoyed.

Gou suddenly stops walking and so does him.

“What happened, Gou-chan? Is something wrong?” he asks but the question answers itself when a watery sound reaches his ears. Is it a lake? No, it sounds like is running water so it must be a river.

“No, nothing, Makoto-senpai” the girly voice assures him “It’s just that we got to a river. It’s really nice”

She then proceeds to describe the scene. The river isn’t that wide and its water is so clear you easily see the bottom, it has tiny fishes, but the water also isn’t running fast. The trees around it are really big and the grass isn’t tall, there are some big rocks near the shore.

“Let’s go sit there, Makoto-senpai” Gou suggests but when they are about to walk, Rin calls them.

“Don’t be boring, Gou! Makoto, do you wanna put your feet in the water?”

Rin sounds kind of far away, so the brunette concludes that Rin is already at the edge of the river, doing what he just suggested.

“Oh, do you want to do that, Makoto-senpai?” the girl asks him.

“What do you think, Haru?” he asks his companion, who doesn’t reply immediately.

“Sure” he says almost in a whisper, it sounds monotonous and bored but, for some reason, Makoto can identify a trace of excitement in his voice.

They get closer to the shore and Gou helps him sit on a big rock so he can take off his tennis and socks, as everyone else does.

“Gah! It’s cold!” Makoto exclaims right after his feet touch the water.

“It’s a river, what did you expect?” Rin says with a snort.

“You're as nice as always, Rin”

“Good thing it is a shallow river” Yamazaki says suddenly “It could be dangerous otherwise”

“Do you think I would suggest putting our fucking feet if the river looked dangerous?” Rin replies bitterly.

“You sometimes make idiotic decisions”

“Yeah, one of them was letting you fuck me in the ass, talking about dangerous”

“RIN!” Makoto yells as he feels his face burn in heat “Your little sister is here, don’t talk like that!”

“Don’t over react, Makoto, she’s an adult now”

“I still don’t feel like knowing your sex life with Yamazaki-kun, brother” she assures with an annoyed voice who definetely suggest she's glaring at the redhead.

“It’s amazing how you’re able to talk about sex but you won’t dare hold my hand while walking, though” Yamazaki scoffs and everyone else, except Rin, laughs.

At that comment, Makoto hears something different in the air, something coming from his left. It’s just momentary, a mere lapse of five seconds, it sounds like an airy cough or something. And it’s coming from Haruka.

“Haru?” he asks to his new friend on a whisper and moves his head towards the other, who once again doesn’t reply immediately “Were you laughing?”

After a moment of silence, a voice that almost sounds timid and shy says “No”.

Makoto stays silent, while Rin and Yamazaki keep bickering between them, but then he softly smiles.

 

* * *

 

The sun is at the top of the sky when they decide to go back to the city.

Haruka has always been fast to dress – and undress, but that’s story for another time – so now he’s waiting for the rest to put their shoes on, shoes that he already has well placed on his feet. His blue eyes are staring at the clear water of the river.

Water. Clear water. The only thing that keeps being the same even after the huge change of seeing colors. The only thing that will stay the same no matter how much time it passes.

A tinkle distracts his thoughts. At the bottom of the river there’s a sparkle, maybe a shiny rock. Haruka crouches and extends his arm, introducing his hand on the cold water that gladly welcomes him and grabs the object.

When he takes it out, he discovers that it indeed is a shiny rock. It’s the same color as Makoto’s eyes.

“Green” he says to himself while looking at the little rock in his wet hand.

“What?”

Haruka immediately looks behind him and finds a pair of red eyes observing him with a confused face. A pair of eyes that traveled back and forth to his face and to the green shiny rock.

A pair of eyes that look confused and angry at the same time.

A pair of eyes that belong to Matsuoka Rin.


	4. Chapter 4

Fear.

It’s an emotion induced by a threat perceived by a living creature.

Fear.

It can cause a sudden defensive reaction such as running, screaming or even attacking the threat.

Fear.

It can be a real threat or an imaginary threat; it’s all the same for the living creature.

“What did you say?”

To Haruka, the voice coming from the redhead’s lips sounds really threatening.

“I asked…” Matsuoka slowly walks towards him, “What.did.you.say?”

When Matsuoka is just some feet away from him, Haru turns around to face him completely. They are about the same height but right now the redhead looks so big in comparison to him.

“Are you going to answer?”

His voice is low and deep, and his eyes seem like they are in fire. A fire that can burn everything around Matsuoka with just a snap of his fingers, and that everything would include Haruka himself.

Instead of answering, Haru just stares at those fired up eyes that make him feel like drowning. A bad drowning. His heart is beating faster than Haru could ever imagine it could beat, it’s going so fast he’s afraid of having a heart attack.

Matsuoka knows. Matsuoka knows of him being able to see colors and of him lying to everybody’s faces.

“Oi, brother!”

Another voice cuts the tense atmosphere around the swimmer and the artist, making the first to turn around to see the girl waving at them while still yelling.

“What are you two doing?! We need to hurry up!”

With that, Matsuoka faces Haru again and his eyes now reflect disgust and anger.

“This isn’t over.” The redhead whispers the warning and walks away, joining the rest of the group.

What isn’t over? Perhaps the swimmer is planning to do something about it? Perhaps the swimmer is going to tell Makoto the truth?! All these ideas make his heart throb because of the fast beating against his chest. If Matsuoka decides to tell Makoto the truth, it would be hard to explain his reasons to hide the truth. Not only that, but there’s the huge possibility of Makoto not believing him in the first place.

What evidence does Haru have to prove that they are destined to be?

None.

And that terrifies him.

 

* * *

  

For some reason, Haruka has been quieter than normal. It’s not like he, Makoto, can vow himself as a “Haruka-connoisseur”, but if Haru usually is quiet, now he’s **dead** quiet. Maybe he feels awkward in his group of friends? Maybe he is tired? Maybe he doesn’t like his friends?

Makoto’s thoughts go around like this for a while. He can sense a tense atmosphere. Rin isn’t talking neither, nor is Gou or Sousuke, much less Haru. The brunette guesses that he should be the one to try it.

“At what day are you exactly leaving, Rin?” He asks his friend, hoping that this will be enough to start a conversation.

“At the 18th of this month.”

Rin’s voice sounds angry, but at least he answered the question.

“Are you excited to go back to Australia?”

“I guess.”

And with that the conversation dies. Man, this is harder than he had thought.

“Yamazaki-kun,” Gou thankfully starts to talk, “Have you thought of going to Australia, even for a vacation?”

That’s how the words begin to flow between them, with Rin’s participation now and then. Makoto can’t help but think that all of this is weird. Everything was alright before. Everybody was having fun and suddenly, the second they decide to go back home, everything got tense. And he suspects it has something to do with Rin and Haruka.

If his memory works well, the two men got a little behind. Maybe they were talking about something, but about what? What could have they said to turn things like this? Makoto knows that Rin can sometimes be very threatening, even without knowing, and Haru seems to be the kind of guy who won’t stand up for himself. So maybe Haru did something that offended Rin? And Rin acted aggressive towards the other man?

At any case, he’ll ask Rin about it some other day. This can’t be left like this. Both Rin and Haru are very important to him and he doesn’t like the idea of—

He gulps hard.

Haru? “Very important”? Well, of course he likes him, he is a nice guy to be around. But calling him “important” seems to be a little way ahead.

But at the same time it doesn’t.

Both Rin and Gou has told him an uncountable amount of times that he sometimes can be such a push-over, so maybe this is part of it. He remembers Rin complaining with him about how he immediately trusts people, without even knowing them fully, and he can admit that that is very much true. It’s not his fault, though, when you have this condition of blindness you learn to trust people around you in case you need help.

And talking about help.

“Haru,” He calls the man sitting next to him in a whisper, “Could you help me get to the bathroom?”

The man mumbles an affirmative sound and gets up, Makoto follows his lead.

“Where are you going?” Rin interrupts.

“I need to use the bathroom.” Makoto replies with an embarrassed chuckle. Gou is right here, jeez.

“I’ll take you,” Rin says and the brunette can hear him getting up.

“No, Rin, thanks, but I already asked Haru.”

The swimmer stays silent and Makoto can almost swear that the man is growling.

“Alright,” The redhead concludes and then sits down again “But do it quickly, we almost arrive.”

The brunette nods and places his hand over Haru’s shoulder, following his steps down the aisle. They are in silence. He should say something about Rin, he should say something just in case things are actually tense between him and Haruka.

“Rin can be very cranky, right?” Makoto says while laughing a bit, trying to make it sound casual, “But he’s actually a nice guy.”

He doesn’t get a reply from Haru, so he continues to talk.

“He is very intense, too. You should see how he gets whenever I say something about Gou discovering her true love.” He laughs at the memory. “But it’s because he cares so much about her. Well, in reality he gets like that whenever something threatens his loved ones.”

Just the night before Rin warned him about Haruka.

“Do you have any other friends in the city, Haru?”

“Yes.”

Finally an answer.

“What are their names?”

“Nagisa and Rei.”

“Cute names.”

“They are both guys.”

Makoto stays silent for a few seconds before bursting into laughs.

“Really? And I had thought my parents were kind of weird for naming me Makoto. So it’s that normal, huh?”

“We are here.” Haruka says while stopping walking.

“Alright, thanks for the help. You can go back if you want.” The brunette grabs the door’s handle.

“I’ll wait for you.”

That simple sentence makes Makoto’s heart jump a little. How ridiculous of him, his brain thinks.

“Ok, I won’t be long.” With a last smile he enters the small room to do his business.

 

* * *

 

It’s not like Haruka really blames Matsuoka for reacting like that. Actually, maybe he would react the same if he discovered someone lied about something this important to Nagisa and Rei. Not so intense, but he still would get very defensive of his friends. But this entire thing still stresses Haru nonetheless. And Makoto trying to defend Matsuoka doesn’t help the issue because it makes him feel alone and kind of betrayed which it’s, of course, ridiculous; taking into consideration that it’s obvious Makoto would defend Matsuoka. They’ve known each other for much longer than Makoto has known Haruka and the brunette completely trusts the redhead.

And that’s what kind of worries Haru. If Matsuoka decides to tell Makoto the truth, the obvious conclusion would be that Makoto would take the swimmer’s side.

Maybe he, Haru, should talk with Matsuoka before that happens. Maybe if he explains his reasons then Matsuoka will understand and leave him alone.

“Oi.”

A brusque voice calls his attention out of nowhere. This voice belongs, of course, to the male Matsuoka that is walking towards him. All big and forbidding.

“Is Makoto still inside?” He asks Haruka without moving his red eyes from the blue ones. Haru just nods in silence. “Makoto!” Matsuoka knocks on the door, maybe a little bit too hard, “We’re about to stop, hurry up”

An “I heard you already!” sounds from behind the door.

When Haru thinks that Matsuoka will go back to his seat, the redhead grabs him by the t-shirt and pulls him away from the bathroom. When they are a little far away, Rin lets him go and crosses his arms, looking directly into Haru’s eyes.

“Give me your number.” Matsuoka orders and Haru is clearly confused, “Give me your number, don’t even think that you’ll get away with this so easily.”

Haruka feels hesitant of giving him his number, he doesn’t even like talking via phone in the first place, but the smartest move right now would be doing as the redhead says. He complies and gives him what he asks for.

“Now go back and wait for Makoto. And not a single peep of this or I’ll tell him your little big secret before you can even blink.”

Matsuoka then turns around and goes back to sit, all of this under Haru’s careful sight. He gets on his previous place in front of the bathroom, just in time because Makoto opens it at that moment.

“That Rin, I couldn’t even pee in peace.” Makoto complains with a smile “Let’s go with the others, Haru.”

The called man once again mumbles a positive hum and offers his shoulder so Makoto can grab it.

“So, these friends of yours,” The brunette starts talking again, “Have you known them for a long time or are new?”

“Long time ago. Nagisa since kids and Rei since high school.” He stops talking for a second. “They are true lovers” The dark-haired feels how Makoto’s hand tightens on his shoulder.

“Really? That’s so great. They must be so happy together.”

“Sometimes it’s annoying.” he confesses because it **is** true. Makoto chuckles at that.

“Yeah, I get you. I have Rin and Sousuke on my own. And you can see how emotionally constipated that Rin is, so sometimes it’s kind of hard to deal with that.” He starts to whisper, “Between you and me, Rin is really romantic and one of the main complaints he has is that Sousuke isn’t romantic enough.”

Haru honestly can’t imagine Matsuoka being romantic to save his life.

“But I guess being romantic while being in a long distance relationship can be kind of hard, isn’t it?” More silence comes from him, “I wonder what it feels like."

Without responding, Haru turns his face to look at Makoto’s.

 _“What do you mean? ‘What it feels like’ what?”_ Are the thoughts that invade Haru’s mind like gold fishes in a pond.

“Being in love.” Makoto says as if he has read Haru’s mind. Actually, Haru may begin to think that Makoto can indeed read his mind.

Haru stops walking but they haven’t arrived to their seats, so Makoto asks him if something happened or if something is wrong.

“It’s impossible for you to be in love?” His voice is just a whisper and he’s afraid Makoto hasn’t heard him, but his hand once again tightens over his shoulder.

“I can’t see.”

Haru knows Makoto is trying to smile without even looking at him, but his voice reveals a faint taint of something. Sadness mixed with resignation.

“And you know how hard it is to find your true love,” The taller man continues to talk, with the same voice. “Even if you can see, the possibility it’s really slim. Now imagine how impossible it is for someone who can’t see.”

A sigh escapes from Makoto’s lips and Haru has this urgent feel of hugging him to protect this man from the rest of the world.

“But it’s alright,” The tone of his voice is back to a gleeful one, “I mean, of course it was kind of hard at first, but later on I learnt that I am me no matter what. And that I’m ok.”

Makoto has had to deal with this non-inclusive world since he was born. He has had to defend himself from others. He has had to learn to live on his own because he knows that no one can understand him wholly. And yet, Makoto is happy with himself and with his life. He doesn’t let the world crush him. What would Haru do in his place? He’s almost sure he would be a little bitter shit thinking about how unfair life is.

Haru decides that Makoto is the bravest person he has ever known.

The world is still unfair, nonetheless. Following the “mother nature law” of “survival of the fittest” seems to be the logical one, but it’s actually really horrible if you really think about it. And now Haru feels kind of guilty for not having ever thought of Makoto’s condition before meeting him.

He shakes his head to clear his mind of those thoughts. Feeling guilty doesn’t mean anything and doesn’t help at all to the situation.

“We should get going, or else Rin is going to come back and kick us.” Makoto says while laughing a bit. His laugh is able to break the tension inside of Haru’s body, which starts to walk again.

 

* * *

 

It’s already dark when Makoto and Haru get back to their apartments.

“Hey, Haru.” Makoto calls him when he’s about to open his door.

“Yes, Makoto?”

“I hope you had fun today. I just suddenly asked you to come in the morning without thinking if you had anything else to do.” He nervously laughs.

Haru just stares at him.

“I know my friends can be a little overwhelming,” The brunette keeps talking, “They are so intense, but I guess that’s why I like them.” He cocks his head, closing his eyes and smiling that smile that could melt any glaciar.

“I had fun.” Haru says. And it’s true, it was fun until the last minutes when everything went straight to shit because of his fuck up with Matsuoka. Now his stomach won’t stop convulsing and biting itself from the nerves.

“I’m glad, Haru. But, say…” His hand travels to the back of his head, scratching it a bit. “Do you think I could meet your friends some day? I would like to. I bet they are really nice.”

His heart is jumping excitedly, even if his face seems to be bored or even annoyed. Inside of him a sun is burning in delight because this man wants to spend more time with him for whatever reason.

“I’ll tell them.” The dark-haired responds, “I’m sure they’ll want to know you.” Mainly a little curious blond.

“Thanks, Haru.”

Haru notices how Makoto starts to fret a little, as if he’s nervous or something. Then the taller man opens his mouth, about to speak, but Haru’s cellphone starts to ring.

“Oh.” Makoto says instead, “I better let you go, Haru. Good night.”

With a last smile, the brunette opens his door and enters to his place. Haruka mentally curses the little device. Little shit interrupting his time with his destined true lover. He enters the apartment, turning on the lights and picks out the cellphone from his pocket. The little screen shows an unknown number.

“Hello?” Haru says the moment he picks up.

“It’s me.” A male voice responds at the other end of the line. Haru recognizes it as Matsuoka.

“Oh.” he really doesn’t know how to proceed after that.

“So, tell me, why did you decide to lie to everyone’s faces? That’s such a shitty move, you know? Are you actually with someone but trying to cheat on them? Because that would be fucked up.”

The dark-haired sits on the ugly-color couch and just listens to Rin. He tries to get mad at the redhead but can’t because he knows that all suspicions are reasonable and justified.

Even if it seems practically impossible, there still are people who cheat on their true lovers. Nobody knows exactly why, because if their partners are supposed to be perfect for them, then why is there the need to be unfaithful? Some say it’s because of the adventure, of the taboo. But sincerely, Haru thinks it’s because they don’t appreciate what they have.

The mere idea of cheating on Makoto makes him sick – and they aren’t on a relationship yet – so he can’t understand how people would have the guts – if you even call it that – to do so.

“No.” Haru answers, “It’s… it’s difficult to explain.”

“I’m all ears.” Of course Matsuoka wouldn’t let it go that easily. With a sigh, Haru begins to speak.

“I started to see colors just yesterday.” Matsuoka is silent, so Haru proceeds. “When I saw Makoto.”

Haru hears a profound gasp from Matsuoka.

“Are you—are you fucking kidding me?!” He sounds impressed and maybe, just maybe, angry. “How is that possible?! Makoto is—“

“I know.” Haru interrupts, “I’m just telling you the truth. I met him yesterday, I saw him in the eyes and then everything got colorful. That’s how it happened.”

Matsuoka doesn’t say anything; maybe he’s analyzing the new information. Haru wonders how he will react to all of this. Will he believe him?

“And what about Makoto?” The redhead says, with a worried voice.

“I think it’s obvious that he doesn’t know.”

“Of course he doesn’t! Why haven’t you tell him?!” That last question actually makes Haru smiles. Does this mean that Matsuoka believes him?

“I thought it would be creepy. Mainly because he doesn’t feel the same about me, as you saw today.”

“Well, now that I think about it…” The swimmer mumbles but stops at the end, surely remembering or thinking about something. “Never mind. But wait! How can I know that you aren’t just a piece of lying shit?”

“I haven’t been on college since Friday morning, you could ask for me to anyone in my classes and they’ll tell you that I’m ‘the weird guy who doesn’t see colors but is in arts’,” Matsuoka snorts.

“Just so you know, it is pretty weird.” Haru doesn’t respond to that.

They stay on silence. Haru doesn’t feel brave enough to speak to Matsuoka, what if he says something and the redhead decides to fuck things up?

“And what are you planning to do?” Matsuoka asks.

“About what?”

“About Makoto, you little shit.” His voice is exasperated.

“The plan right now is making him fall in love with me.” He doesn’t exactly feel like telling Matsuoka all of this, but the redhead is Makoto’s closest friend.

“You’re doing a shitty job.” What an annoying guy, “Ok, for now I’ll trust your word.”

“Thanks—“

“But!” He interrupts, making a dramatic pause, “You have to deal with this in less than two weeks”

“What?!”

Now Matsuoka is the one being ridiculous. Matsuoka himself just told him he’s doing a shitty job! And he knows that’s fucking true! Because he’s just that inept at social encounters! How is he supposed to make Makoto fall in love with him in less than two weeks?! And besides, why in less than two weeks?!

“Because I’m leaving in two weeks,” The redhead clarifies, “And I don’t want to leave Makoto like that.”

Haru’s heart is beating fast, with Makoto’s words replying in his head.

_“Well, in reality he gets like that whenever something threatens his loved ones.”_

He would laugh at how much Makoto knows his friend, but he suppresses it because he guesses it would hurt Matsuoka’s pride.

“Besides,” Matsuoka continues to talk, “If it’s true that you’re destined true lovers, then it **should** be easy peasy for you to accomplish that, wouldn’t it?”

He sounds cocky and Haru can imagine the smirk on his face. So that’s why Matsuoka is so insistent on the two weeks. It’s also to put on trial Haru’s words.

“Of course.”

“Alright, then I’ll leave you for now. You better make a plan, tho, and it better works.” And then the calls cuts off.

 Haru feels like he just made a contract with the devil.

 

* * *

 

It’s 9 PM when Makoto gets out of the bathroom after his bath.

Usually his bath is the most relaxing part of the day, but today it didn’t work quite as expected because his mind still has troublesome thoughts about his best friend Rin and the newest addition to his social circle Haru. If it results that Rin indeed doesn’t like Haru, for whatever reason, Makoto would be placed on a difficult situation.

Of course, the redhead would never demand him to cut off ties with the artist, but then the brunette would have to juggle between relationships with them. It wouldn’t be that hard, though, taking into consideration that Rin is going away to Australia in two weeks.

He walks to the kitchen and opens the fridge to grab a can of iced coffee when his cellphone starts to ring with Rin’s tune. How weird, what could he possibly want at this hour? Maybe he wants to talk about Haru.

“Yes, Rin?”

“What do you think about Haru?” Makoto has to hold a laugh.

“I think he’s nice. Why?”

“No, nothing.” and then silence.

“Rin.” More silence. “Rin, why did you call at this random hour and then asked for Haru?”

“He’s kind of weird, don’t you think?”

“Weird in what sense?”

“He doesn’t even talk much. How can you say he’s nice?”

“Maybe he was just nervous.” Makoto sits at his little dining table, opening the iced coffee. “You can be a little overwhelming, being honest.”

“Of course I’m not overwhelming!” The brunette once again holds a chuckle, “And nervous my ass when Sousuke is about to shove his dic—“

“Rin, can you not?” He presses his fingers on his nose’s bridge.

“At any case, what do you feel about him?” Makoto arches an eyebrow at the question.

“Now you’re being the weird one. Why are you asking these weird questions?”

“Just answer, damn it!”

Makoto doesn’t reply because he starts to think about it. Why is Rin being so persistent on the Haru issue? It’s weird because it’s the first time they even see each other. Of course, the night before Makoto spent a bit too much time talking about the artist, but still the response he’s getting from the redhead is kind of exaggerated, even if he dislikes him. Unless…

“Are you jealous, Rin?” The brunette teasingly asks.

“W—What? What the fuck are you talking about?!” He’s stuttering, which makes Makoto laugh a bit.

“Relax, Rin, you’ll continue to be my best friend even if I meet new people and you stay on Australia.”

“I’m not jealous! Much less of a guy like him!” He now is agitated, “Just answer the damn question.”

“What I feel about him…”

His finger dances on circles on the coffee’s upper part while thinking. It’s kind of strange to be even pondering about this because he just met Haru yesterday, so the mere notion of feeling “something” for the other man is way too rushed. And yet, when Haru is around him, he feels this calm sense out of nowhere, kind of relaxed? Haru’s whole being is relaxing for him. Haru is silent, both in moving and talking, but his words feel warm and with meaning every time he speaks.

He really likes being with Haru, so much that he even dared to ask him to meet his friends Nagisa and Rei.

Memories from that evening come back to his mind, when he placed his hand over Haru’s shoulder. He had guessed that Haru is smaller than him – his voice sounds kind of the same range as Rin’s – but he didn’t think the difference would be that much. In fact, Makoto is sure he could pick up Haru without much trouble.

A giggle escapes from his lips at the thought.

“Makoto.” Rin calls him. He has stayed silent too much time.

“I feel like I like having him around,” Rin doesn’t say anything, so Makoto talks. “I don’t know, I just like being with him. It’s like…”

Surprisingly, he’s having a bit of a trouble to express what he feels into words. But how could he do that? When Haru himself is kind of hard to understand but at the same time so easy to do so? Haru feels like someone who just does things because he wants to, not too much thinking because it’s just that simple. And even if Makoto himself knows it’s ridiculous, he feels as if he can understand Haru the most. And the thought of that doesn’t sound as preposterous in his mind as it should.

“It’s like having me or Gou around?” The voice at the phone asks.

“Uhm…” Makoto rests the chin over his hand and he gulps nervously. “No, it isn’t.”

Silence invades the line and Makoto is afraid of having offended Rin, mainly because just moments ago Makoto assured him he didn’t have to worry about Haru usurping his place as a friend.

“I see." Rin finally says. He sounds more relaxed than before, but Makoto can recognize the worried tone on him. “That’s everything for now, Makoto. Good night.”

“W—Wait, Rin! Tell me…” He gulps once again, “Did something happen between you and Haru? Back at the river when you two got behind?” Silence is everything he receives for an answer.

“Nothing happened.” He says but if there’s something Makoto could brag on is on sensing Rin’s bullshit through his voice. However, the brunette decides to leave it at that, maybe Rin already got over it.

“Oh, ok. I’m glad.” He smiles.

“Makoto, just—“ He sighs before continue talking, “Just be careful, alright? I mean I’ll be leaving in two weeks and—” Makoto smiles at his friend’s nervousness. “And I don’t want anything bad happen to you.”

“I know, Rin, thanks. But you know I can take care of myself, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m not that easy to trick. Do you remember when we were kids and you tried to give me that orange juice with pepper? But I discovered you and made you drink it.”

“I was a horrible kid, jeez.” He’s laughing now, which brings peace to Makoto’s mind.

“I need to hang up, Rin, college doesn’t like it when I have too much fun.”

“Yeah, sure. Sleep well, Makoto, take care.”

“You too, Rin."

They both hang up and Makoto lets go a sigh with a wide smile.

He feels like he had talked with an angel.


	5. Chapter 5

His alarm clock rings with its thunderous noise when it marks 6 AM, waking him up from the pleasant world of dreams full of blissfulness and calm whiteness and blackness. But now he must open his eyes and deal with the very real world full of stressful and taxing rainbow of colors.

Haruka wonders for about the fifth time how in Earth did the human kind evolution like this. All these colors are becoming a pain in the eyes, but maybe it’s only because he just has two days with this new ability and his brain is still trying to get used to it. Pushing away the sheets, Haru gets up and with a single scratch on his back-head he begins his day with a shower and a bath.

It’s a Monday, so his first class is at 9 AM. It’s still really early, but he likes to spend a lot of time in the bath.

A sigh escapes from the depths of his lungs when the cold water touches his hot body on the tub. The water is as welcoming and colorless as always has been and Haruka really appreciates that. This little tub could be called as his “comfort zone”. Everything is alright as long as he’s sitting in there and ignores the rest of the world and how fast it goes.

He rests his head against the wall behind him, closing his eyes, and another refreshing and cold feeling from it fills his head.

To be honest, he doesn’t feel like going to class. The people there are really annoying and now that he can see colors, he guesses everything will get worst. Should he tell everyone that he is able to see colors? Maybe just the professor. And now that he thinks about it, will he be able to paint as well as before now? His technique is with gray scale, but now adding colors could be tricky, mainly because he still doesn’t know all of their names.

The final decision comes as he gets up from the tub, an hour later at 7 AM.

He chooses to not tell anyone. He will continue to paint on gray scale and no one will notice the difference. If people get notice of his new skill they wouldn’t leave him alone with annoying questions he would very much prefer to not answer. That’s just how meddlesome the huge majority of people are, really bothersome. And not only that, but Haru is almost sure that all of his classmates and professors would then start talking to him as if nothing in the previous semester ever happened. As if they didn’t tease and made remarks about how he couldn’t see colors.

After getting dressed, he goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge to prepare his favorite: mackerel and rice. While cleaning and preparing the fish to roast it, he can’t help when his blue eyes wander to the other side of the room, to the wall that is connected to Makoto’s place.

Would Makoto be up at this hour? If he has learnt anything about Makoto is that he likes to listen to music all day, and right now all it’s coming from the wall is silence, so maybe he’s still asleep. Now that Haruka thinks about it… he never asked Makoto to what college he attends. What if they are on the same college? And not only that but in the same faculty? They are both studying something relevant to arts, aren’t they? Well, Makoto’s major is actually different from Haru’s, but there’s nothing wrong with having little hope, right?

At any case, the probability of that is almost null. In case of them going to the same faculty, Haru would have seen Makoto at least once, wouldn’t he? Because the brunette is kind of hard to not notice. Even Haru can recognize an attractive person when he sees one, and he’s pretty sure it’s not his heart in love talking when he says Makoto is really, really, attractive. Haruka is also sure that Makoto must be popular with all genders, people hoping to be the ones destined to be with him but that unquestionably go away the moment they see those empty and yet so full of love for life green eyes of his.

The apartment’s air soon is replaced with the mackerel’s delicious scent of getting done, so Haru places it on a plate with white rice after turning off the little roaster of the stove. He sits down, grabs his chopsticks and with a little blow of air to get it cold, Haru eats his first piece of colorful mackerel.

He feels he’s about to cry.

 

* * *

 

His alarm clock wakes him up from his deep slumber, so it must be 8 AM. In all honesty, he has never been a morning person and so he always has some difficulty on getting up. His brain tells him to get up but his whole body tells him to just stay on the soft bed. Thankfully he always listens to his brain because if he did the contrary then he wouldn’t go anywhere in the near future.

With a really big and long yawn, Makoto sits on the bed and stretches his arms to feel how the sluggishness slowly disappears from his body. It’s not quick enough because soon the temptation of lying down the bed again falls on his brain as a rock. Good thing he’s strong enough to surpass it and get up.

His class starts at 10 AM, so he must hurry up if he wants to eat breakfast and get the train in time.

After choosing what clothes to wear, he takes a shower that fortunately achieves to wake him up completely. When he arrives at the kitchen, he grabs the remote control and turns on the stereo. Soon some soft jazz music starts to play and invades the silence.

But of course he is now careful of how high the volume actually is, taking into consideration his new neighbor Haruka.

Makoto smiles at the memory of the dark-haired man’s voice. The man usually doesn’t talk but the ring of his voice is pretty appealing in that kind of way that it relaxes. It’s so monotonous that it gives that type of vibe those hypnotists use to make their show over the people willing to be part of it. It’s somewhat curious how someone can be so silent all the time.

The brunette typically can identify even the most slight of the sounds that are around him, and proof of that is when he heard the boxes being carried and dropped when Haruka just moved, but since then Makoto can’t really say he’s able to distinguish any noise coming from the other side of the wall. Haruka is almost like a ghost.

A shiver goes down his back at the thought of ghosts and Makoto recriminates himself for thinking about something so frightening so early in the morning.

The duty of cooking something eatable is a little more difficult than the shower. Makoto decides to eat sunny side eggs with pepper and buttered toast. This time the egg yolks aren’t that cooked so the brunette deems them as a success.

He washes his teeth, combs his hair hoping it looks decent, buckles his watch safely around his wrist, picks up his bag, and grabs the eternally white and red cane to finally exit the apartment at 9 AM. He can’t help it when his mind drifts to Haruka again the moment he locks the door, asking himself at what hour the other college student wakes up to go to class. Maybe he’s already gone, maybe he’s going later, who knows? With Haruka everything seems to be a silent mystery full of secrets. Secrets Makoto wouldn’t mind in the least to reveal and discover.

A little laugh makes its way through his throat. It’s funny and slightly weird how he’s only been awake for about an hour and all he’s been thinking about is his neighbor.

 

* * *

 

Everything is annoying.

There are people everywhere, and that people is full of colors. Different shades of colors flooding his sensitive sight. And worse, the first class is Theory of Color II so he’s doomed to stare at a bunch of colors in his book and in the blackboard hanging at the front of the classroom.

He ponders on the option of buying sunglasses, but declines on it because it would be suspicious to not be able to see colors but wear such things. Besides, any change in his person would attract attention. Attention that he doesn’t welcome at all.

That’s one of the main mishaps about being the “weird guy who can’t see colors” in the faculty. Everyone knows you, everyone can recognize you and everyone can see if there’s something different about you. Even the newbies soon learn that he’s the one who can’t see colors but still decided to enter to Arts. Of course he notices the lingering stares he gets whenever and wherever he walks, and let’s not even talk about the whispering and secrecy from everyone who sees him.

Next class to go is Live Painting class. This is where his ability will be put to test because he now must focus on just and only paint with a grayscale so nobody notices something unusual on him.

“Nanase,” A male voice calls him out of nowhere from his side, so he turns his face that way.

Everyone is sitting on stools with a canvas in front of them, painting some boring fruit.

“Do you have any Tea Rose color?” The classmate asks and Haru can recognize the smirk full of sarcasm.

Of course he doesn’t have that fucking color, and this asshole knows it. Why the fuck does he need that color, anyways? They are painting oranges and apples—wait, what if Tea Rose actually is some kind of red or orange and not pink? UGH.

“No.” Haruka answers with the monotonous voice that is so characteristic of him, hoping it sounds annoyed enough so this jackass would leave him alone.

“Ah, sorry. I should have known.” The asshole shows off an obviously fake apologetic smile. Haru can hear the other man’s friend snickering behind him.

Haru lets go a sigh and puts his whole attention to the painting in front of him. He is pretty confident about his ability and talent to draw and paint. He knows he’s good, even more than some of the other people able to see colors, and that’s something that the other students kind of resent of him.

Whenever the faculty has an art gallery exposition, students must submit a piece of art and of course Haru participated in the last exhibition. Obviously it was an oil canvas painted in grayscale and it attracted a lot of attention from the attendees and crowd, being the only one like that in a sea of colors and rainbows, and it actually got pretty good comments about everything; from the lighting, to the texture, to the composition, to the image itself. The other students didn’t take that with much grace and since then, the teasing and “bullying” came in harder than before.

He just can’t understand why people feel like they have this obligation to be complete douchebags to others.

But whatever, he will just continue to ignore them as has always done.

When he decides to pickanother brush, one thinner than the previous, to grab some white paint and combine it with black, his mind travels all the way to yesterday. Particularly to the conversation with Matsuoka.

Just two weeks to make Makoto fall in love with him. It sounds difficult and surely it’s more difficult to achieve it. He still doesn’t have a concrete plan on what to do. At first he had thought to just start inviting Makoto to “hang out” – totally not dates, what are you talking about? – but decided against it when he realized he has no fucking idea what people do when “hanging out”, and he would need a good excuse for every time he invites the brunette to something – “I need to go midtown to buy some paint, wanna come?”, “I need to go midtown to buy soap, wanna come?”, “I need to go midtown to buy… something, wanna come?” – and the last thing Haru wants is to scare Makoto away.

Then perhaps invite his neighbor to his house, he thought, with the excuse of paying out the food Makoto gave him last time, but again he would need more excuses to invite him to his place every single day. They are neighbors but that doesn’t mean they should spend all the time together in normal circumstances. Makoto doesn’t know they are destined to be and surely would find weird Haru’s insistence on being together.

Maybe he should ask Nagisa and Rei what to do—wait, now that he thinks about it, didn’t Makoto say he would like to meet these two?

His hand trembles a little at the thought, provoking a little smudge on the white stroke he is painting. That would be the perfect excuse to invite Makoto over today, at least at the beginning, he’ll think of something else later on. He just hopes neither of Makoto, him or his friends gets too busy with studying and homework in the evening.

A last sigh escapes from his thin lips as he turns his blue eyes towards the window, looking at the blue sky with white clouds.

What could possibly be doing Makoto right now?

 

* * *

 

This is getting a little ridiculous, Makoto would admit that much, but he just can’t help it. And how could he, when everything reminds him of **him**?

“Makoto-senpai?” A female voice he recognizes as Gou calls him. “Are you alright?”

They are sitting under a tree, eating after buying some food at the college’s cafeteria. Makoto can feel the soft and warm wind playing with his hair. The air smells of wet soil, it’ll probably rain in the evening.

“Yes, it’s nothing.” He answers with a calm smile.

“You’ve been acting weird all morning, though,” Her voice sounds confused. “As if you’ve been thinking about something really deeply.” He can almost hear the inner detective in Gou getting out.

“Nah, I guess it’s just the Monday sogginess.”

It would be embarrassing to admit that he’s been thinking about Haru all morning. It’s even embarrassing to admit it just to himself in his thoughts. But it’s as if his brain and mind won’t cooperate to think about something else.

In the first class he had, the professor assigned them to do an essay before the hour finished. It was about a short tale, a tale talking of a little boy who was very lonely and wanted friends, so he befriended the stars and the moon. The boy reminded him of Haruka, even if it doesn’t make sense because Makoto very well knows that Haru has friends and is happy with them. But this feeling of uneasiness won’t leave his heart in peace.

It feels like a pressure inside his chest and it doesn’t matter how much he tries to ignore it, it won’t go away. Rin has always told him about how “sensitive” and “perceptive” he can be when there are other people involved, so maybe he’s “perceiving” something bad in Haru? Maybe it’s his sixth sense warning him about something, but about what?

“You don’t experience Monday sogginess, Makoto-senpai.” The girl insists. “It’s something wrong? Something happened? Did you have a fight with my brother?”

How weird of Gou mentioning Rin on this.

“No, why do you ask?”

“Well…” Her voice diverts a little, sounding unsure of progressing, “Yesterday I heard my brother talking on the phone, and he sounded pissed. He locked himself on his room so I couldn’t hear well what he was saying, tho.”

That’s even weirder. Makoto doesn’t remember Rin sounding more pissed than usual.

“No, everything is alright.” He reassures the young woman. “But you shouldn’t be peeping others’ conversations, Gou-chan." He teases with a smile.

“Ah!” Her face surely gets a pretty shade of red that combines really well with her eyes and hair, “I wasn’t peeping! It’s his fault for yelling!”

With that, Gou changes the subject to something else. Surely hoping the attention isn’t on her anymore. Makoto takes the opportunity to check his watch as he touches the little nubs that marked the hours and minutes. 11 AM, he should get going soon.

“I must go now, Gou-chan, I still have to go to the library.” With a grunt he gets up and grabs the always trusted cane.

“Ah, alright, Makoto-senpai. Take care!”

It was the truth when he said he has to go to the library, so Makoto gets on his way. But people still stops him from time to time, to ask about class, to ask how is him, or to ask whatever. People often talk to him with any excuse since he started to attend to class at this faculty and at first he thought it was strange, so he asked Rin about it.

_“It’s because you’re hot, Makoto, don’t be ridiculous.”_

Of course he has no way of knowing or corroborating that, so he just kind of trusts his friend. And he guesses this is actually the main reason of why Rin is so insistent of telling him to take care of himself because he doesn’t want him to get hurt because of “a horny asshole”. His ears ring with the giggle that escapes from his lips at the memory or the redhead’s voice. Sometimes people of all genders would ask him on a date that he kindly refuses. The idea of going out with someone before that someone finds their true destined lover is somewhat weird and, honestly, bizarre.

What does Haru think about that? Does Haru think everyone should wait for their true love? Or maybe he is more liberal in that sense and thinks that it’s ok to have some fun before that happening. The artist doesn’t sound as someone who hangs out a lot, nonetheless, or even spend time with a lot people, so Makoto highly doubts Haruka is having “any fun” before finding his true lover.

The sudden idea of Haruka finding his true lover leaves a sour taste on his mouth. Haru taking their hand, Haru talking with them, Haru kissing them, all of this just makes him cringe. How weird. He’s always been kind of protective, just as Rin, but this sentiment is new. Maybe he should talk about it with Rin.

No, it’s better if not; it’s obvious Rin has some problem with Haruka and Makoto would make everything worst if he happens to talk about the artist so soon. Now that he thinks about it, all of his last conversations with Rin have been about Haru.

“Weird.”

He says to himself in a whisper as he opens the front door to enter the library.

 

* * *

 

“Mmmh?! Of course Rei-chan and I will go to your house, Haru-chan!”

The merry and happy childish voice from his friend traveled through his ear in the phone. Haruka is standing behind a building. He often comes to this spot because is usually empty, so no one annoying bothers him in there. Besides the sight is nice with trees and flowers.

“But may I ask why are you asking us to be there?” Nagisa’s voice is full of suspicion, and that it’s to be expected. He had moved out of Nagisa’s apartment for a reason.

“Makoto wants to meet you.” He simply replies and has to pull away the phone from his ear because of the screaming.

“Really?! That’s amazing! Of course we’ll go! Ohhhh, I’m so excited, Haru-chan!”

“Try to control yourself, please.”

“Oh?! Is this part of your plan to make Mako-chan fall in love with you?” Haruka cringes at the nickname.

“Yes.”

“I see! Well, anything you need, Haru-chan! So you can be very happy with your future boyfriend. Oh, you need us to bring something?”

“I hadn’t thought of that…”

“Don’t worry yourself, Haru-chan! Rei-chan and I will think of something to have tons of fun today! See you at 6 PM!”

Nagisa hangs up before allowing Haruka to say goodbye – he’s already used to that. He just hopes the blond doesn’t come up with some weird idea of “fun”. Now all he has to do is to invite Makoto over; he’ll do that in the evening.

It’s just then when Haruka reminds that he doesn’t know at what time Makoto will be at home.

“Fuck shit.”

Anyways, he already made plans with Nagisa. Maybe he should pray to some god or spirit so Makoto comes to his apartment at a reasonable hour. He must remember to ask the brunette for his phone number with some kind of excuse.

 

 

Hours pass until he’s finally free from classes. The ride back home is a little more difficult because now he’s carrying an oil canvas and he must protect it from grabby hands or rude pushes on the train. This is an important project for his grade and he sure doesn’t want it to be ruined by some asshole.

When it’s ten minutes left for him to go out of the train, he notices curious eyes looking in his direction all around him. It doesn’t surprise him, though, he’s carrying a gray scale painting and surely everyone just assumed Haruka is able to see colors. So, a gray painting is a weird thing to see.

The dark-haired just wants to get home, prepare some delicious mackerel, wait for his friends to arrive and then invite Makoto over to his place to be able to be with him. He only has two weeks to work with, after all.

A female voice coming from the train’s speakers breaks him away of his thoughts, announcing that his stop is about to happen, so he grabs his stuff more securely and prepares himself for the sea of people. The train’s doors open and soon everyone is pushing to get out before the doors get closed again. Being completely honest, this is Haru’s least favorite part of the day, maybe of his life, with everyone pushing and trying to get in everyone’s way. It’s just plain annoying to be with so many people around him.

Thankfully he is able to get out of the train and from the crowd without much issue, or more than the usual anyways. He walks with a fast pace, not really sure of why exactly he’s feeling so antsy to get home. Maybe he’s just tired. Maybe he’s been out of home for too long. Maybe it’s all these fucking colors finally getting over to his brain.

After turning in a corner, his feet stop and so does his breathing, but his heart beats like there’s no tomorrow without his conscent.

Makoto is crouching on the floor, with a big backpack over him so he must be coming from school too. Haruka can hear him murmur something to the floor. He gets closer slowly and in silence, grabbing his canvas more tightly. His heart is still beating away and he wonders if everyone feels like this when they are in front of their true love.

When Haruka is just behind the brunette, the latter stops murmuring and gets up to turn around with a warm smile. It’s then that the dark-haired man can see a white cat with blue eyes on the floor, looking intently at the other man.

“Yes, can I help you?” Makoto asks with a polite voice.

“It’s me." He simply replies as he sees how the taller man’s body relaxes almost immediately.

 “Oh, Haru, hello.” The smile he already had becomes even more warm and gentle. “You got me nervous for a moment. Getting all sneaky behind me.”

Now that he puts it like that, it indeed is kind of creepy.

“Sorry.” Haru apologizes without moving his blue orbs from Makoto’s face.

“Are you coming back from college?”

“Yes.” He reprimands himself when he isn’t brave enough to ask Makoto to walk back together.

“Let’s go together, shall we?”

Thankfully Makoto saves the moment.

As they walk in silence towards their building, Haruka considers if this would be the perfect moment to invite Makoto to his place. But how should he do it? Should he ask Makoto if he’s busy later? Maybe invite him to eat lunch with him, or simply tell him to come over because Rei and Nagisa are going, and wasn’t he interested on getting to meet them?

“Are you busy later on?” Makoto asks out of nowhere, surprising Haruka.

“Yes.” He answers, because he guesses that spending time with his friends is actually being busy, isn’t it?

He can’t help but wonder if that little twitch on Makoto’s eyebrow is full of deception.

“I see.” Makoto replies after a tiny moment of silence.

“Rei and Nagisa are coming.” Haruka offers, hoping and praying for Makoto to take the bait. It seems he does, because now he’s smiling widely.

“I see!” His voice also sounds more excited “It’s always good to have friends over.”

“Would you like to come over?” He finally questions and he can swear on his life that Makoto is beaming.

“Sure! I did ask you to meet your friends, right?” The brunette cocks his head with a gentle smile. “At what time would be ok to arrive?”

Haruka doesn’t reply immediately, pondering the answer. He would love to have Makoto over his place since early but he still has school stuff to do even if he doesn’t feel like it.

“They are coming by at 6 PM, so whenever you feel like it” He answers instead.

“I have a few things to do, so I’ll pass by 6:30 or something like that.”

When Haruka realizes it, they are already going upstairs at their building. How fast time passes when you’re having fun.

“You know, Haru?” Makoto starts to speak as they walk to their respective doors. “This may sound weird, but…” They stop at their own places, “But I like being with you”

Haru’s heart’s beating is sounding so loud inside his head he’s surprised Makoto isn’t able to hear it and ask him what the fuck is going on. The brunette likes being with him and that brings an inexplicable happiness and joy to his mind and body. If he were braver, he would grab Makoto’s hand at the moment. But he isn’t that brave and taking another man’s hand out of nowhere is weird anyways.

Makoto must feel strange because he starts to fret. Oh, crap, Haruka forgot to say something.

“It’s weird what I just said, right?” The taller man repeats, shifting his weight on each foot.

“No, it’s not.” Haru quickly replies, trying to calm down his future lover, “I also like being with you.”

He would add _“a lot”_ to that last sentence but let’s not hurry things up. Yet.

 The brunette lets go a relieved sigh and chuckles a bit. It sounds like something out of heaven in Haru’s humble opinion.

“I’m glad” He says, “But it is weird, don’t you think? We just met a few days ago and yet…”

His voice drifts to a murmur, not finishing the line as if he thinks it’s better that way. But that only makes Haruka’s curiosity to peak. “Nevermind. I better get inside, homework is waiting”

This time the sigh escaping from Makoto’s lips sounds tired. Haruka nods.

“Sure. Then 6:30, right?”

“Right.” A last smile is given before entering and closing the door.

 

* * *

 

What the fuck was that?

Makoto is with his back leaning at the door as he feels his face burning in embarrassment. Using his hands to cover up his face, he lets go a grunt into the air. He can’t just go and tell Haru he likes being with him! Even if the artist said it wasn’t weird, Makoto is pretty sure it **is** weird. They’ve just met two days ago! **Two**!

But he just couldn’t help it, in fact, those lines just slipped out of his mouth without him controlling them. He’s glad Haru corresponded to his words nonetheless, but his cheeks still sting in the blush of fluster. Well, it could have been worst, couldn’t it? He could have mentioned how the other man has been flooding his thoughts since first thing in the morning.

Walking in the kitchen’s direction, he lets his backpack on the small table to start preparing something to eat.

 

 

A few hours later – and a failed attempt of food later – Makoto is reading one of his books with a pointed stylus hanging from his lips at the table when he hears voices through the walls. Actually it’s just one voice; it’s happy and loud enough for the brunette to discern a “Haru-chan!” out of it. The nickname brings Makoto a small smile. That voice must be from one of Haru’s friends, so it’s must be 6 PM by now. Just half an hour for him to get over there and the idea makes his stomach do a flip.

He admits it’s weird for a big grown-ass adult like him, but in truth he’s very shy and awkward with new people. Makoto can perfectly remember the first day of college, when every single class was an odyssey because every single professor wanted them to introduce themselves in order to “break the ice”. It wouldn’t been hard or even awkward to do it if people didn’t focus in his blindness and the fact that he was on a Literature major. And not only that but, then again, people taking interest on him because – in Rin’s own words – he’s “hot”. Honestly, the brunette doesn’t like being the center of attention; he prefers the spotlight to be on someone else and just support them from a side.

But this isn’t the time to linger in awkwardness or social anxiety, mainly because he was the one to ask Haruka to spend time with him and his friends. He’s in no place of getting nervous. Moreover, if they are Haru’s friends they surely are nice and easy to get along, right?

The happy and loud voice makes its presence again in the silence of his side of the wall, something about “Don’t be so boring, Haru-chan! Jeez!” and Makoto actually chuckles at that. He wonders what are they talking about, surely about something the happy voice is trying to convince Haru to do but can’t because Makoto has the slight feeling the artist is really stubborn.

Now that he thinks about it, he should go to the store and buy something to bring along to Haru’s place. It’s the correct thing to do. So he gets up, grabs his cane, and goes out of the apartment.

It’s not summer anymore, but the wind still has a warm touch to the skin that instantly sticks to Makoto’s face. The rain season’s humidity still remains as if it is afraid of being forgotten by people. Even if the brunette definitely prefers summer over the cold winter, he is more than ready to welcome a chiller climate to his life. Winter also means vacation and he really needs that.

Just a small walk is all he needs to reach his destination, a bakery in which they sell all kinds of pastries, cookies and sweets. The sugar-coated air invades his nose with a pleasant deep breathe the moment he enters the local. Makoto is received by a gentle feminine voice of an old lady, greeting him with a “Welcome!”.

After deciding what pastries to buy, he pays and grabs the little box, exiting the place with thoughts full of what kind of cake is Haruka’s favorite and Makoto sure hopes he got the correct one.

In no time he’s back at the building and standing in front of Haru’s door. He’s feeling nervous all over again, so with a last sigh he knocks on the entry. At first it doesn’t sounds like he’s getting an answer but then he can hear loud stomps rapidly coming his way and the door suddenly opens.

“Hello!” This isn’t Haru, it’s the same happy voice he heard earlier, “Are you Mako-chan?”

Makoto doesn’t know how to exactly reply to that question, so he just smiles and nods slightly.

“Is Haru home?” He asks to the mysterious voice.

“I’m here.” Haru’s voice finally appears and it sooths Makoto’s uneasiness like a warm shower after standing in the cold for a long time . “Come in.”

At the invitation, he steps in and promptly changes his shoes for a pair of comfy slippers.

“Mako-chan, you are so tall! I almost didn’t believe Haru-chan when he said you are taller than Rei-chan.”

Rei-chan? Then that means this voice is Nagisa. He sounds like a bubbly kind of person, who acts on whatever they feel like because it makes them happy and wants to have tons of fun. Ah, didn’t Haru mention that Nagisa and Rei were true lovers? So they are able to see colors.

Wait. Did he just say that Haru talks about him when he’s not around?

“Good evening, Makoto.” Another voice enters the space, “My name is Rei Ryugazaki and the one who opened the door for you is Nagisa Hazuki”

Ryugazaki, contrary to Hazuki – Nagisa –, sounds serious and determined as if each word is carefully calculated so they aren’t out of sync. 

“Glad to meet you both, Ryugazaki, Hazuki.” Makoto smiles with closed eyes.

“Mako-chan! You can call us Rei and Nagisa! After all, you’re Haru-chan’s true lov—friend!” Makoto is able to overhear a smack and a soft "ouch".

Weird.

“We were in the middle of deciding what to have for dinner,” Ryugazaki—Rei informs “Is Chinese alright with you?”

“Yeah, sure! Ah, I bought some sweets.” He lifts the box a little, “But I guess they don’t go with Chinese…”

“Are you kidding?!” Nagisa questions, “Sweets **always** go with **everything**. Give me, give me.” Makoto feels a soft thug on the box so he lets go.

“Ahhh, this smells so good! Good going, Mako-chan!”

The compliment makes Makoto smile again. Rei and Nagisa continue to talk as they are going away, probably to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that.” A soft voice besides him offers.

“About what, Haru?” He asks, turning his head towards where he heard the voice.

“Nagisa sometimes can be a little too much.”

Makoto chuckles.

“Don’t worry, Haru, it’s fun.” And, to be honest, he’s as excited as Nagisa seems to be.

Both men join the younger ones at the kitchen, they are talking about what to order.

“Sit, Makoto, would you want some tea?” Haru asks him in a soft voice, as if he were afraid of the others listening to him.

“Yeah. Thank you, Haru” He sits as instructed.

“Mako-chan, you’re majoring on Literature, right?” Nagisa’s voice sounds at his right, so he must be sitting at the table with him. “I don’t like reading,” He starts to complain. “But Rei-chan tells me all the time that…”

At that moment, his voice changes to a deeper tune, trying to imitate Rei’s serious voice, “Reading is the key to knowledge! Or something like that” He laughs.

“Nagisa-kun!” Rei calls him, obviously flustered at the mimicking, “Don’t be so cynical about it."

Makoto can’t help it when a giggle breaks out from his lips. Rei’s and Nagisa’s dynamic is so different from Rin’s and Sousuke’s. Sure, the continuing teasing is the same, but also so different at the same time. When Rin and Sousuke tease each other is something they do consciously, on contrary to Nagisa and Rei that seem to be something done without realizing.

“Haru told me you are true destined lovers.” The brunette offers to the conversation with a smile.

“That’s right!” Nagisa’s voice is so cheerful it fills Makoto’s own heart with joy, “We were in highschool when we met, right, Rei-chan?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“We were at the train and it stopped suddenly, so I almost fell down but Rei-chan saved me and BAM!” Dramatic pause. “True love was born that day.”

Sometimes Makoto wonders how that feels like. When he was a child he would often ask his mother about it. She would answer that it’s an emotion that immerse the heart in happiness. But at that young age, and even today, he couldn’t grasp the concept of it. It couldn’t be that simple, right? If it were, then society wouldn’t make such a deal about it. When Rin found Yamazaki on High School, Makoto tried to ask him about it, but even the romantic fanatic Rin couldn’t form the words to describe how it is.

_“It’s like when you are at a very hard race, all tired and without breath. But you still win and then you touch the pool’s edge, pulling off your goggles and see the results. And then you are screaming your lungs out. But a thousand times better."_

Makoto didn’t understand jack shit about that metaphor because he has never been on a race, nor he has plans of doing so.

“Here, Makoto” His thoughts are interrupted the moment Haru’s voice comes within reach, placing the tea cup over the table. The soft aroma coming from the green tea in the cup warms his nose. He picks it up and drinks a little.

“Thanks, Haru.”

“I think it’s about time we call the restaurant to order, shall we?” Rei announces.

An hour later, the food finally arrives and they start to merrily eat while talking, with Nagisa practically hoarding the whole conversation about meaningless things and sometimes questioning Makoto about his private life. However, he is thankful when the attention drifts towards Haru, with Nagisa telling “embarrassing” stories about High School and the swimming club when children. And yeah, it’s “embarrassing” in quotes because it doesn’t matter just how embarrassing the story gets, Haruka doesn’t seem to be unfazed by it.

“And then he wore the girl’s swimsuit! Haru-chan is actually a life saver in that matter.” The young man finishes his story. It’s clear to Makoto that Nagisa cares deeply for his friend, maybe even admires him.

“I didn’t know that story, Nagisa-kun.” Rei commented.

“Well, you never asked.” Nagisa replies as a matter of fact, “By the way, Haru-chan, did your hair got longer?”

That question makes Makoto’s ears perk in interest. Now that he thinks about it, he never thought how Haruka looks like.

“Maybe.” The artist replies with that serious voice of him. “I haven’t gone to the stylist for a while”

“Oh, oh! Are you trying to become a hippy bohemian artist?!” Nagisa seems to be excited at the revelation.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Nagisa-kun!” The mere idea makes Rei’s voice tremble.

“I just kind of forgot.” Haru adds at the end.

Makoto can feel the slight tremble at his hand holding the chopsticks with a surely already cold piece of chicken on it. How does Haruka looks like? How is his nose? How are his lips? Is his hair soft? How short does he wear it? A lot of questions travel through his head in an instant. He feels his mind is overheating.

Not knowing how someone looks like isn’t anything new for him. In fact he spends most of his life not knowing how a lot of people are. There are just a few persons that he does know because they allowed him to touch their faces. They would be his family and Rin. Just five people in the whole world he has touched to be able to kind of imagine what they physically look like.

Face touching is something really personal for him – Makoto – and as such he doesn’t go around asking people to let him brush their appearance. He hasn’t even asked Gou about it because he doesn’t feel it’s right to do so.

And yet…

And yet he’s almost dying to know how Haruka looks like.

“Makoto?”

The reason of his troubled thoughts calls his name, taking him out of his stupor. Maybe he got too quiet all of the sudden, attracting everyone’s attention.

“Is something wrong?” Haru continues to talk to him.

“No, nothing." He smiles while closing his eyes.

But his hand wouldn’t stop trembling.


	6. Chapter 6

 “Good bye, Haru-chan, Mako-chan!”

Nagisa’s voice echoes through Haru’s small apartment. It’s already dark when they are at the door saying their farewells with a big smile and waving their hands.

“Mako-chan, it was a pleasure to meet you!” the blond man grabs the brunette’s hands out of nowhere. Makoto can feel the softness in them, they are also small. Nagisa surely is a petite man, if his kind of childish voice can be clue of anything about it.

“The pleasure is mine, Nagisa” he replies with a soft smile.

“You should hang out with us more often, too” Nagisa continues to talk but then lowers his voice, just enough to be a caress in Makoto’s ears and out of reach from Rei and Haru, who are talking about something else “I’m sure Haru-chan would be really happy of spending more time with you, Mako-chan”

Makoto is sure that last sentence is accompanied by a playful and yet lost for him wink, but maybe it’s replaced with the squeeze on his hands. Said squeeze sending a pulse directly to his heart, making it tighten in response out of confusion and excitement for something. Feeling nervous all of the sudden, the brunette chuckles to soothe his now restless and jumpy heart.

“As long as you guys want me around, I’ll accept every invitation”

Nagisa doesn’t say anything for the next seconds, but soon enough a giggle adorns the silence surrounding them.

“Nagisa-kun” Rei calls his boyfriend suddenly “We should go”

“Right!” the smaller man frees Makoto’s hands “See you later, Mako-chan!”

“Good bye, Makoto” Rei says with that calculating voice of him.

“Bye, Rei” another smile is given into space.

The silent night is interrupted by the steps of the two young men going away, still talking with each other. Makoto could still hear Nagisa’s playful laugh and Rei’s bickering, but they start to sound so distant and far away until they completely disappear. Once again silence envelopes him, feeling the now chilly wind playing with his hair while caressing the skin. The crickets’ songs warming the ambience and the uneven beating of his heart.

Makoto takes a deep breath to finally let it go with a sigh.

“They are perfect, right?” it’s just a murmur, a whisper coming out of his lips with a smile, and even so it feels so heavy, so powerful and so real.

Haru doesn’t respond to his question, but it doesn’t matter, it isn’t supposed to be answered.

“Rei and Nagisa” he continues to talk “They are perfect for each other, that’s why they are so happy together, aren’t they?”

Still no answer from his companion, but for whatever reason Makoto is sure Haruka is listening with attention, so he keeps talking.

“Rin and Yamazaki are also perfect for each other” he shrugs with a smile, closing his eyes to remember every conversation the two lovers has had in front of him “They are so happy together, even if they talk so rudely to each other. I guess that’s why it’s called ‘true destined love’, isn’t it?”

Both his hands tighten around his cane without him wanting it to happen. Why is he feeling like this so suddenly? He can feel his whole body tensing up. His throat is getting dry and a knot is slowly forming on it, so the words start to hurt when coming out. It’s a pain coming from the base of the stomach and travelling all the way up to his mouth, burning everything on its path without mercy, and making his lips tremble with just the slightest of shudder.

A stingy pain behind his eyes that soon is covered with tears that Makoto definitely doesn’t want to shed, so he closes his eyes in hopes of them disappearing as if magic or a miracle. Another deep sigh escapes from his lips and he himself notes the tremor on his breath.

Everything stops when something warm covers both of his hands. It’s warm and soft, and it brings an almost immediate relieve to his mind, body and aching heart.

“Haru?” he breaths on a hushed tone, as if air was lacking inside of him, as if life itself was trying to get out of Makoto’s body. He opens his eyes, knowing Haru must be in front of him, but it makes no difference. Darkness is still darkness nonetheless.

“It’s ok, Makoto” another low voice talks to him. It’s silky, it’s tranquil and it’s calm, as if it was a gift given by heaven “You are ok”

It’s a simple sentence of three words. Three words and eight letters in total. A group of different sounds flying through air, entering his ears and reaching his beating heart like a warm breeze in the lightness of the morning after a cold night in the darkness.

“Makoto”

His name again, calling him for an answer that he doesn’t have yet. Did his name sound this good since always? Maybe it’s just this voice and this moment in particular.

“Yes” the brunette finally replies, forcing his voice pass further the dying knot inside of him “I’m ok”

Silence is everything he receives in exchange, but it’s a comforting silence that doesn’t need to be filled with nothing in particular. It’s a silence made to happen naturally, it feels created for them only.

“I better go” Makoto says, smiling his way out of the situation “It’s kind of late. Good night, Haru”

The warmth in his hands slowly disappears, leaving them cold. And with that he takes just a few steps towards his door, opening it and entering his safe place.

 

* * *

 

 

Trembling hands and a beating heart is everything Haru has left when he sees Makoto getting away from him.

What happened to Makoto? Everything was going alright and suddenly the brunette started to act weird, as if he was in pain. Was he really in pain? Did Rei and Nagisa trigger something? Did Matsuoka and what’s-his-name? He was talking about them just seconds before him “losing control”.

Haruka enters his own place and is welcomed by silence. Makoto hasn’t turned on his stereo with that jazz music he seems to love so much. Being honest, Haru is confused at what to do. He’s sure that if they were a couple already, it would be much easier to comfort his future lover but alas that’s impossible right now. He even took a risk daring to place his hands over Makoto’s.

Maybe it’s because Makoto started to feel badly about him “not able to find true love”, but that would be weird. Just yesterday Makoto himself said he was content with his life, he knows he’s ok the way he is; he knows he’s happy like this. Then, why?

Absentmindedly, his hand travels to his hoodie’s front pocket, grabbing his mobile. His mind is full of doubts and questions. He can’t honestly think he knows everything there is on Makoto; that would be cocky of him. With a smooth movement, he takes out the phone and picks the unknown number from the screen. The perpetual dial tune making its presence inside his right ear.

“Hello?” a rowdy voice asks him after picking up.

“Does Makoto cry a lot?”

“Yeah, good afternoon to you too, prick—wait, did you say Makoto cried?” Matsuoka’s voice turns from pissed to worried “What happened?”

“I don’t know, he was with me and some friends and—“

“Did you little shit do something to him?” and again an angry tone is used “Because if you did, I swear I’m going to—“

“I didn’t do anything” Haruka rolls his eyes in annoyance “We were outside my apartment, alone, and he started to talk about my friends being true lovers and then about you and your boyfriend being too… and then he started to cry”

Matsuoka doesn’t reply, so Haru continues to talk.

“Not sobbing or anything like that, but he got really quite and he was trembling” the sole memory in his mind fills his chest with sorrow, being unable to help.

“Fuck” the redhead says with a whisper “Fuck, fuck” he repeats, perhaps he knows something?

“What?”

“Ok, alright” he chokes a little, is _he_ crying? But calms himself with a sigh “Makoto doesn’t cry a lot… in fact, he doesn’t cry at all. But it isn’t because he doesn’t feel sad or shit, but more like…”

The voice drifts into silence, surely Matsuoka is thinking about the correct choice of words to use to describe the complexity of Makoto Tachibana’s nature.

“He doesn’t want to be an issue” he finally says “You know, being blind and all”

“But I thought—“

“That he’s 100% ok? Don’t be stupid” another exasperated sigh is heard on the line “I mean, of course he is ok, but half of his life he was bullied by shitty kids when I wasn’t around” he actually sounds a little guilty, Haru thinks. “Can you imagine what that does to someone? And not only that, but nowadays he still has to live in this kind of world”

Haru is glad he isn’t the only one who has thought of that. So Matsuoka also thinks about Makoto’s situation on a world obsessed with sight, colors, rainbows and love.

“And, as I said, he truly is ok with his condition; he’s at peace at that and he never showed signals of feeling sorry for his ass about not finding true love. But maybe…” again the voice vanishes slowly, deep in thoughts “But maybe it’s your fault?”

The dark-haired has to repress an insult getting out of his mouth. How dares Matsuoka imply that it’s his fault Makoto is hurting so badly?

“Of course, it’s just a theory” the voice keeps talking “But maybe he started to feel like this because of your ‘broken link’ with him, so to speak. Maybe he’s feeling shit and he doesn’t know how to deal with that”

Ok, that makes sense, a lot of it actually. Based on this theory, Makoto is feeling emotions he never felt before and like so he doesn’t have any idea of what is happening with him. But then, why Haruka doesn’t feel like that? Why he doesn’t feel as sorrowful as Makoto seems to do? Is it because he’s able to see colors? He must remember to ask Rei about it.

“I mean, he doesn’t even know you’re supposed to be together. Must be freaky to feel a lot of shit and not knowing what the fuck is happening to you, isn’t it?”

He hates to admit it, but Matsuoka is probably right. At first Haruka had thought that Makoto didn’t feel anything at all for him, but maybe – just maybe – he was wrong about it. Maybe Makoto indeed feels something and he simply doesn’t know what or why in the first place.

“What should I do?” Haru questions in defeat.

“I don’t know” Matsuoka confesses “Your plan of making him fall in love with you sounded about right at first, but now…” more silence “What if you just tell him?”

“With what prove or evidence of it being true?” the dark-haired immediately spits. He knows Matsuoka isn’t at fault here, but he can’t help it.

“I know” surprisingly, the other man keeps his cool and calm voice “But I sincerely doesn’t know what to tell you”

Haru sighs and walks towards the ugly color couch, sitting on it with a mute thud. Maybe he should start asking Matsuoka questions.

“Has Makoto ever been interested about finding his true love?” he asks. The redhead doesn’t reply immediately, but just hums as a sign of thinking and remembering old times.

“Not that I can remember. Not specifically, at least. When we were kids he used to ask his mother about it, about what it feels like”

The dark-haired darts his eyes to the roof. He can clearly see little Makoto, with his big green eyes and messed brown hair, asking his mother about love and life. And she trying her best to answer all of his questions with that gentle smile that probably the brunette got from her.

“And in high school when I met Sousuke, he asked me. But still, he never seemed depressed about it. He accepted his ‘love-less’ destiny from a young age”

That means that Makoto is still interested in love and what not; or at least in the concept of it. He wouldn’t ask so many question if not. But then again Matsuoka said Makoto had accepted his life since long ago. Why is he reacting like this now? Maybe it’s as the other suggested, with Makoto actually having feelings he can’t comprehend yet.

What should he do then?

“You know” Matsuoka interrupts his thoughts “Maybe I’m over thinking this, I don’t know, but personally when I don’t see Sousuke for a long period of time I get cranky and antsy”

Then is this his usual not cranky self? Haru almost laughs.

“And Sousuke has told me he also feels like that. I’m guessing you too have this feeling of wanting to be with Makoto all the time, so maybe he is feeling bad because you aren’t together? Have you tried spending time with him? You know, alone?”

“No, I had thought it would be weird to ask him that”

“It is weird” he actually laughs a bit at that “But Makoto is Makoto”

Haru thinks it’s funny how the redhead only gives that as reason, as if it would explain everything.

“What I’m trying to say,” thankfully he realizes his fuck up “Is that Makoto won’t think it’s weird. He’s friendly just like that. You should ask him to hang out with you for whatever”

Haru now thinks it’s funny how just yesterday Matsuoka was threatening him with pain and punishment if he hurt Makoto but now it’s actually telling him to go on a date with said friend. Of course, Haru wouldn’t call it a date. Not in front of Makoto.

“I’ll think about it” he finally says.

“Good. Now I have to go. Bye”

“Matsuoka” Haru calls him one last time, and he receives a hum as an answer “… thanks” he murmurs and for a moment the other side of the line is silent.

“Yeah” the red-eyed simply says and then hangs up.

The artist leaves the phone over the couch’s arm and passes both hands over his face. Another deep sigh escapes his body without him realizing while covering his tired eyes. It feels heavy and as if his whole body is being restricted and pushed hard against Earth. An itchy sensation invades his skin, giving him an antsy feeling inside his chest. He wants to scream, he wants to hit something and he wants to hold Makoto and tell him that he isn’t alone, that Haru is there for him and that he shouldn’t be suffering in solitude, that there’s no reason to suffer because they have found each other.

But he can’t.

 

* * *

 

He had thought that getting away from there was the right thing to do. He couldn’t permit himself to look like that in front of someone. But what exactly is “like that”? And why did it happen? It was so sudden and out of nowhere. So out of control.

Makoto is sitting at the little table in the dining room, with a half-empty cold coffee can in front of him. He knows drinking coffee when he’s feeling like this isn’t a bright idea, but he can’t help it, he just wants to undo the tight knot inside his throat. A hand passes through his hair as a way of calming his nerves but proves to be useless when he feels the hand trembling.

Haruka surely now thinks Makoto is weird, changing his behavior so abruptly and practically running away from him to seclude himself in the dark apartment of his. Interlacing his fingers to rest his chin on both hands, he closes his green eyes. Having his hands so close to his face makes him remember the warmth of Haru’s over them.

The touch of those hands at least relieved some of the bad feelings he was having at the moment. He immediately felt how his body relaxed at the touch and how his heart stopped running insanely at the sound of the artist’s soothing voice. That voice that sounds so monotonous and so uninterested, as if everything in the world were annoying or a trouble to deal with.

But that same voice was able to calm him, even if only a little and only for a few moments. That same voice sounded so personal, as if it was just for Makoto’s ears to listen.

Makoto chuckles nervously.

“Don’t be ridiculous” he says to the empty room. It’s ok, he isn’t expecting an answer anyways.

A musical tune starts to interrupt the solemn atmosphere. He recognizes it as Rin’s tune. How weird.

“Hello, Rin?” he says after picking up “It’s something wrong?”

“Not really” the other man is heard at the other side of the line. He sounds strange, probably he’s hiding something, but Makoto won’t pry on it. He has learnt that Rin talks when he feels ready. “Just wanted to talk, since we didn’t see each other today. How you doing?”

“Ah, I’m fine!” he smiles even if he knows Rin can’t see him “I got to hang out for a bit with Haru and his friends, at his place”

“I see. How are they?”

“They are nice. Nagisa is really funny, tells a lot of jokes and embarrassing stories about Haru” he laughs a little at the memory “And there’s someone else, his name is Rei, he’s really serious and analytical, but he’s fun too. Mainly when Nagisa teases him”

He stops talking for a moment.

“They are true lovers” Makoto finishes.

“I see” Rin doesn’t sound interested at all, maybe he’s boring him? “Didn’t think of Haru being the kind of having friends, much less noisy ones”

“Don’t be mean, Rin!” but he still laughs.

“Anyways, wanna hang out tomorrow with me and Sousuke?”

Makoto closes his eyes to ponder over it. Right now he isn’t feeling with the motivation of going outside the apartment, but he guesses tomorrow is another day. Besides, Rin is leaving in less than two weeks now and won’t come back for another couple of months; Makoto really should take every chance to spend time with his childhood friend.

“You can bring Nanase, if you want” the redhead suddenly says, and it surprises Makoto enough to stutter.

“Br—bring Haru? But I thought…”

“That I didn’t like him? Well, I don’t. Not entirely. But he’s your friend, so whatever. Plus, wouldn’t you feel weird being third wheel with me and Sousuke around?” Makoto laughs once again.

“I guess you’re right”

“Alright. I’ll call you tomorrow early to give you the info”

A moment of silence invades both sides of the line. It isn’t like Makoto doesn’t have anything else to say, on contrary, the young man has his head full of questions that sound silly even to him. Should he ask them to Rin? Of course he’s his best friend but there are limits. Kind of. Right?

“Say, Rin…”

“Yeah?”

“How…” the knot in his throat gets bigger and so he gulps in hopes of passing it “Maybe… maybe I’m being weird asking this, but…” his free hand ruffles his already messed up hair for a moment.

“Just do it, Makoto” to the brunette’s surprise, Rin almost sounds expectant.

“How…” he repeats and suddenly his hands are slightly shaking. He tightens his fist over the brown threads of his head “How do Haru looks like?”

When Rin doesn’t say anything at first Makoto starts to regret the question. It’s weird to be asking such a thing. Haruka is just his new neighbor, a man he met just a few days ago. But his mind won’t leave him in peace about it. For some reason he wants really badly to know how that man at the other side of the wall looks like, but isn’t brave enough to ask for permission to touch the other’s face because it would be weird and strange, and wrong.

“Makoto”

Rin’s voice sends a shudder through his spine. He knows what’s coming. He knows Rin will say something about it. Rin will say he’s being weird and that he should stop and—

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Makoto could feel how his heart stops altogether for a brief second.

“Ask… ask him?” his voice sounds constricted without permission and it frustrates Makoto to no end.

“He’s your fucking neighbor. You could just get up from your hot-as-damn ass, walk over there and ask the little shit to let you touch him that gross face of his”

Makoto can feel his eyes stinging again, prickling with a light burning sensation, but this time he lets it go because it feels different from before. He starts laughing freely. It feels so refreshing when the knot in his trachea finally stops clogging his breath, and so do the tears going down his face.

He keeps laughing even when Rin tells him to stop with a pissed voice, but soon enough Rin joins him in the joyous expression. They continue even when Makoto hears Sousuke tell Rin to stop cackling like a cock – to which Rin replies with a “You love this cock, anyways!” –.

When his stomach begins to hurt, the brunette eventually stops laughing but his breathing keeps uneven. Cleaning the tears with the back of a hand, Makoto grips the phone even tighter while smiling wide.

“Say, Rin…” Makoto commence when his lungs operate correctly once again “You do know you’re my best friend, right?”

“Of course” the redhead replies with a shy voice that makes the other smile.

“Thanks”

“Yeah”

“Let’s hang up. It’s getting late” another approval is given by his friend “Good night, Rin”

“Sleep well, Makoto”

After cutting the call, the brunette gets up – from his “hot-as-damn ass” – and goes to his room to change clothes to pajamas.

Later on he is sitting at his bed, a bundle of nerves again but not for the same reason as before. He had accepted Rin’s invitation to hang out but he indeed doesn’t want to be a third wheel around them, so the best course of action would be taking his friend’s suggestion and simply ask Haru if he wants to go.

His nerves reside in the point that he doesn’t know how Haru will react. Makoto can’t really understand why dealing with the artist is being such a troublesome thing now when yesterday he was perfectly fine with it. At any case, at what moment will he invite Haru? He doesn’t have any phone number, and he doesn’t know what kind of schedule he has. Today he was early, but what about tomorrow?

Moving his hand slowly, he touches the wall he shares with the other young man. It feels cold and obviously hard, but it weirdly gives him a sense of comfort that brings a smile.

“Haru” he says in a moment of distraction.

Distraction that is suddenly cut off when he hears a knock coming from the wall.

 

* * *

 

Haruka is praying to every spirit and god up in heaven and universe that he just didn’t fuck up.

But he can **swear** he heard Makoto’s voice calling him from behind that wall. It was as clear as water – and water is something he knows pretty well – and that’s why he decided to knock on the concrete.

A thankful exhale gets out of him when he hears knocking from the other side.

“You can hear me?” a muffled voice asks coming from the white painted wall. Haruka can barely hear it though, but still knocks once in response “Wow, these walls are really thin”

The artist rests his forehead over the wall, gratefully accepting the cold sensation it brings to his mind. It seems Makoto is feeling better already. Whatever happened to Makoto in that interlude must have been really good, and Haruka is honestly happy for his true lover.

“Hey, Haru” the voice of his neighbor calls him again “Tomorrow… tomorrow I’m going out with Rin and Sousuke”

Damn that Matsuoka, first he tells Haru to spend time alone with Makoto and now he’s—

“He said I should invite you” there’s a pause “And I really don’t wanna be a third wheel” he says with a soft laugh.

Ok, Haru takes back what he just thought. Matsuoka don’t be damned. Remembering he probably should answer, he knocks once.

“Is that a yes?”

Oh, right.

“Yes!” goddammit, don’t sound too excited!

“Ok!” well, it seems Makoto is excited as well “I’ll tell you the details tomorrow, ok?”

This time Haruka doesn’t respond, he just knocks once.

“Good night, Haru”

Another knock and then silence, but Haru can’t help it when a smile creeps on his lips.

Everything is going to be ok.

 

Nothing is going ok.

It’s the next day and even if the sun was smiling and shimmering in yellow joy in the morning, even if the sky was calm and soft in blue bliss in the morning, and even if the clouds were aloof and passive in white fluffiness in the morning, none of that matters right now because it’s pouring as if heaven was mad at humans for the sole reason of existing and breathing.

Loud, wet and fast steps of running can be heard in the distance, in the middle of this desolated street of this tranquil neighborhood, accompanied with a hasty panting coming from tired lungs. Haruka is running the fastest he can, and being honest with himself and the world, that isn’t much.

Everything started to get down to shit the moment he put a foot at school. Firstly he tripped and now his knees hurt like hell, secondly it seems the people around him put extra effort on being annoying, and thirdly this fucking rain is ruining his class project. Project that should be exposed in just two weeks, excuse you, but if Haru doesn’t get home quickly the painting will turn into a splat of broken and sleepless nights and sour tears.

Besides it’s getting late, way too late for his taste, and he had agreed to go out with Makoto, Matsuoka and what’s-his-name-boyfriend but now he isn’t sure the brunette is even at his place. When he’s about to get to the departmental building, he slows the pace to regain the lost air from his body and it’s then, turning at the corner, when he sees a tall body under a big umbrella standing at the feet of the stairs.

It’s Makoto. He’s fretting in his feet now and then, looking around at any noise he can perceive. The dark-haired feels his heart pounding away against his chest, probably wanting to ran away from inside to go to Makoto. Haruka doesn’t blame his heart; if he could he would do just the same.

Walking towards the tall man, Haru seems to forget about his urgency on saving the painting between his arms because then he’s trembling at the smile Makoto is giving him. What is he doing here? Could it be that Makoto refused to leave the building until Haruka arrived? Could it be that Makoto is waiting for him to return so they both can go?

“Can I help you?” Makoto asks courteously.

“Makoto” Haru calls him and he can’t fail to notice his voice sounding eager.

“Ah, Haru” the smile on his lips gets wider “I was waiting for you”

The confirmation feels as good as chicken soup on a dark and cold winter night. Covering his body in a warm sensation beginning from the heart and spreading to every single fiber of his being. Haru easily notices how even his breathing got back to normal on an instant.

“You didn’t have to wait outside” thankfully Haru still has some common sense. Of course, he’s the one to talk when he’s all wet and acting as if nothing.

“It’s no problem, though!” he closes his eyes “I wouldn’t have been able to listen to you arrive, otherwise. The rain can be pretty noisy. So, are you ready to go?”

“I need to change”

“Eh? Don’t tell me you didn’t bring an umbrella!” Makoto looks surprised but soon his eyes turn into, dare Haru think, maternal nag “And you’re still standing here! Quick! Go to your place to get change!”

Usually Haru would think that a person nagging at him is being annoying, but Makoto’s berate feels familiar and even a little appreciated. He wonders if it’s like this for every true lover.

“Want to come?” Haru asks the other, who blinks twice with a confused face “To my place. Come.”

Without another word, Haruka starts going upstairs. He doesn’t need to look back to check if the brunette is in fact following, he knows Makoto will follow him even if he can’t explain it. When the green-eyed does as told, Haru can feel his heart once again jumping.

This would be the third time to have Makoto in his apartment and he is excited at the thought. If this continued like so soon he wouldn’t need real excuses to invite him over anymore.

He opens the door and the darkness of the place welcomes him. Turning the lights on he turns around to find Makoto closing the umbrella before entering.

“Thanks for the invitation” he says when stepping inside.

“I’ll be quick”

“I’ll call Rin to tell him we are going a little late then” with a last smile, Makoto advances making use of his cane to the living room to sit.

Haru gives him a little smile and then remembers he still is clutching the paper covered canvas in between his arms. He opens it at the kitchen and grimaces when discovering the paint is completely ruined. With black spots merging without order into the white ones and turning into an undesirable and ugly gray. He’ll have to start over from the beginning in another canvas because this is now as useless as sand on the desert.

Leaving the ruined canvas over the table, he goes to the bedroom to pick clothes for a quick shower. At the distance he can hear Makoto talking with Matsuoka over the phone.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s ok, we’re going!” a little pause where surely Rin is talking “But—Rin, just—“

Maybe something happened, because Makoto sounds a little flustered at the conversation going on.

“I really want to hang out with you!” the brunette continues and then pauses “Yeah, it’s raining pretty badly, but—eh? I’m at Haru’s, he’s going to shower, why?”

Haruka closes the bathroom’s door the moment Makoto yells a loud “EH?!”

What is going on? If he has learnt something about Matsuoka in the little time he has known him is that the redhead can be pretty unreadable pretty much all the time. The warm water coming from the shower is well received by his cold skin.

Moments later he’s out of the bathroom and goes directly to the living room, finding Makoto still sitting there with a worried look in his face.

“Makoto” he announces his arrival, placing himself in front of the brunette for easier talking.

“Haru!” Makoto starts to move his hands really quickly “I’m sorry! There’s nothing I could have done!” he looks so apologetic and nervous. Haru frowns.

“What?”

“I insisted on not doing it like this, but—“

He’s interrupted with a loud knock coming from the front door, to which Haru looks doubtfully. He isn’t expecting anyone, so who could it— **no**.

Haruka looks back to Makoto, who is with both hands together as if praying and bows with a serious face.

“I’m sorry, Haru!”

Fucking shit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rin and Makoto's friendship is so precious it must be treasured.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've felt so inspired because all of your comments, kudos and love that I decided to promptly write next chapter!
> 
> Enjoy!

Whatever happened in the brief time he took when showering, it was the precursor for what is happening right at this moment.

And it’s not like he’s really complaining, not at all. It’s just that Haruka is someone who values his house privacy. He likes to have everything under control inside of the place. He can perfectly tell where every single possession of his is. His favorite black with purple jammers is on the drawer; his favorite kitchen knife is sitting patiently for its time to use on the kitchen right next to his favorite pair of cooking chopsticks; and let’s not forget his favorite slippers that he’s using at the very moment.

So when Matsuoka and what’s-his-name-boyfriend knocked at the front door, he felt his stomach doing a flip.

“We decided it’s better this way” the redhead says as he walks towards the kitchen, hands on hips and looking around “It’s raining like hell outside”

Haruka wouldn’t have minded this turn of events if he had had a previous notice. But Matsuoka simply decided by himself what is best for the situation and that deeply pisses Haru off. Of course he won’t say anything about, it’s too much trouble to do so, and it’s already happening anyways.

“Is this a painting of yours?” Matsuoka asks suddenly when he enters the kitchen. He’s staring at the ruined canvas that is still over the table. What kind of question is that? Of course it’s his, it’s sitting right there at his table, on his kitchen, at his apartment. The teal-eyed stops his walking just behind his boyfriend like a protective shadow.

“It’s weird to look at it. With it being all gray” the tallest man says.

“It’s ruined” Haruka tries to explain, not knowing exactly why but he feels defensive about it “The rain ruined it”

“You had a painting with you too?!” Makoto asks. He still looks apologetic about his fuck up at least “Haru, you shouldn’t have spent so much time talking with me under the rain! Was it an important project?”

To be honest it was an important project. His school is preparing for an exposition in less than two weeks and that was the piece he was going to present. Now that it’s ruined, he’ll have to start another piece and he better think of something soon because two weeks is just enough time to finish something any decent. Not to mention that being the only student in Arts who can’t see colors – no longer true but ok – the school’s administration and the artistic media has actually expressed curiosity and even expectation about his work. He is not one to brag, but if there’s something he likes to do is to shut people’s mouth off, and receiving total attention from the artistic media would definitely shut up more than a few people at his school.

And no, of course that’s not being childish.

“I’ll just start another one” Haruka replies to his true love.

“’Just start another one’,” Matsuoka repeats “You say it as if nothing. I guess that’s the artist for you”

Matsuoka can be so annoying Haruka wonders if the redhead is doing it on purpose or if he is just born that way.

“Your place is basically the same as Makoto’s” Matsuoka observes, sitting at the little table where just yesterday Nagisa was sitting. His boyfriend sits next to him.

“The bathroom is at the other side though” the brunette comments while extending his hand to touch a chair to sit down.

“Then the bedroom must be at the other side too” this time the other’s boyfriend is the one talking. Haru has noticed how the other black-haired man doesn’t talk much. He wonders if he’s like that all the time or just when someone else besides Matsuoka is present.

“Ah, yes! Our bedrooms are on the same wall” Makoto says with a smile and Haru can almost see sparkles around him. Maybe what’s-his-name-boyfriend also sees the shimmering because then he’s staring at Makoto.

“That’s a rather specific thing to know” he finally says, a chuckle threatening to get out. Makoto seems to realize it and a red tint of blush smears his cheeks.

“A—ah! Well, that’s because, uhm, you see…” his voice is clearly nervous and the blue-eyed can’t really understand why. They know because the walls are really thin and that’s it. Nothing out of the world or worth getting embarrassed over.

“The walls are really thin” Haru says in order to save Makoto from getting more flustered. Matsuoka and his boyfriend are now staring at him until the redhead starts to laugh openly, unlike Yamazaki – that’s his name! – who is more reserved about it.

“Did you hear Makoto jerking off and that’s how you know about the walls?!” Matsuoka is practically wheezing in the middle of the laughs “Wait, no! I bet it was YOU jerking off and Makoto had to tell you about it!” he slaps Yamazaki on the arm “Can you imagine Makoto’s face?!”

“T—That’s not it!” Makoto tries to defend his honor but his flustered voice and red face doesn’t help his cause at all “Nothing like that happened! Rin, stop saying nonsense! Haru, tell him to stop!”

“Stop”

“Wow! That really convinced me, Nanase!” Matsuoka goes against the host’s order and keeps laughing.

Deciding that the best way of action right now would be to ignore Matsuoka and Yamazaki, Haruka turns around to the kitchen in order to prepare some tea. Makoto can still be heard trying to quiet down his friend but ultimately failing at it.

He can admit he notices the difference between yesterday’s hang out and today’s. Makoto looks more relaxed now than yesterday; not surprising though, taking into consideration that now he’s between close friends. Plus, Nagisa can be really exhausting because he hoards the whole conversation with his incessant talking. Matsuoka, on the other hand, gives opportunity to participate on the chatting on a more equal level.

The pot of water starts to boil, turning off the stove Haruka pours the hot water on the cups that were previously prepared with some tea leaves. Behind him, Matsuoka finally stops laughing and now they are having a conversation about his life at Australia.

“By the way, Nanase!” the redhead calls him suddenly “We should really place a date for that race we talked about the other day!”

The cups full of tea are placed over a black trail, the warm vapor going up and liberating the relaxing scent of leaves and familiarity. Haruka has to do this, he has to in order to get close to Makoto. And, surprisingly, Matsuoka is trying to be helpful; why? Haruka doesn’t know, but he won’t ask about it and just accept the favor.

He’s walking back from the kitchen when Makoto starts talking.

“He has to paint that project of his, Rin. Don’t take his time away”

Haru stays silent, putting each cup in front of the designated owner.

“Just one race, Makoto. It doesn’t hurt”

“Not everyone is as obsessed with swimming as you, Rin” Makoto teases the other man. Silly Makoto, Haru thinks; he is just as obsessed with swimming as Matsuoka, just in another kind of swimming.

“Tea for you, Makoto” the blue-eyed says to the brunette, who smiles and nods moving his hand slowly, tentatively touching until he reaches the cup and grasps it softly.

“Have you been swimming since long, Nanase?” Yamazaki asks him as Haruka sits down next to Makoto.

“Yes” he simply responds with that monotonous voice of his.

“Have you ever entered a club?” now it’s Matsuoka who questions him. What is it with these guys and asking so much?

Haruka remembers the day, when he was just a child, Nagisa convinced him on joining a swimming club. He agreed to just to shut Nagisa up more than anything, but eventually he found the fun of the club and learnt a few things he still uses nowadays when swimming. But that was the only club he ever participated on. When he entered Middle School – leaving Nagisa behind at Elementary – he stopped going altogether.

“Only one, when I was a kid. But stopped after a while”

“And why did you decide to go into Arts?” the redhead is resting his chin on a hand, staring at Haru’s blue orbs. Why is Matsuoka suddenly so interested on him?

“I’m good” there’s no point in denying the obvious.

“And what are your plans after graduating?” Haru looks at Yamazaki after the question. The teal-eyed has his arms crossed against his chest and a serious sight all over him.

Oh, this is happening.

Haruka’s eyes move for a second to his side, catching Makoto’s face smiling, and then towards the couple in front of him. Red and teal eyes are staring at him directly as if they want to read his mind and soul. Haru would laugh but he’s sure that would offend the other two.

They are questioning Haru to see if he’s worthy of Makoto’s time. Or something like that.

Wait, does that mean Yamazaki knows? It doesn’t seem like it. Maybe Matsuoka simply asked him to get information out. And does that mean Matsuoka doesn’t completely trusts Haru still? Maybe he’s just being overprotective as always. At any case, he has to endure this interrogatory; even if it’s annoying and even if he would rather be in complete silence next to Makoto.

“I’ve received some offers. For expositions and so” being the artist of gray does come with some positive points. He knows he’s kind of being treated like a phenomenon but he doesn’t care as long as it brings him the much necessary money.

The inquiry continues for about an hour. Haruka has to confess his unhealthy way of eating mackerel almost all the time, he has to confess his unnecessary habit of staying on the bathtub for longer than necessary, and he has to confess that even if he’s pretty good at swimming he’s pretty much useless at other sports. By that moment Makoto is giggling about Haru’s weird antics.

“What is it with you?” Matsuoka asks Makoto, his voice sounds pissed to Haru but he’s smiling, and maybe Makoto can perceive the smile because he smiles too.

“It’s just that I’m remembering Nagisa’s stories from yesterday. They were funny” Makoto has his eyes closed, relaxed “And, I don’t know, Haru being Haru…” his voice drifts and the smile disappears just for a second, but a second is long enough for Haru to catch it “It’s fun”

Haru looks at Matsuoka in silence. Did Matsuoka notice Makoto’s smile ceasing to exist for a second? The redhead is smiling as if nothing so Haruka can’t guess anything about it. Perhaps Matsuoka did notice but decided to act normal, for all he knows he didn’t.

“We should get going” Yamazaki announces after peeking his wristwatch “It’s getting late”

“Yeah, ok” the swimmer stands up and everyone does the same “It’s a shame we couldn’t go anywhere, though”

“It is” Makoto corroborates “We can always decide on another day”

Luckily the rain has subsided and it’s more bearable when they open the door. Matsuoka covers himself with the hoodie of his jacket, but then he’s being shielded by Yamazaki’s own jacket when the taller puts it over the redhead’s shoulders. It’s almost imperceptible but Haruka can see a pink glow on Matsuoka’s face.

“Let’s run for it” Yamazaki says and his boyfriend nods.

“I’ll call you later, Makoto” the red-eyed tells him.

“I’ll be waiting” by his part, Makoto offers that eternal smile he always has.

As Matsuoka and Yamazaki say their farewells, they run through the alley. The blue-eyed can hear the swimmer giggle and is reminded of one of those romantic TV dramas that his mother and father sometimes watch. He also recalls Makoto’s sentence from yesterday, saying that Matsuoka and Yamazaki are perfect for each other.

In the distance, he can see both men getting on a car with Matsuoka driving and going away slowly. Haruka is sure that those true lovers continue to giggle, joke and maybe even steal kisses from each other while going home where they probably will continue with their games until falling asleep; doubtlessly holding each other.

A sigh coming from next to him brings him back to reality; it’s Makoto who is smiling but in complete silence. Is he going to have a “crisis” again? Haruka sure hopes this isn’t the case because he doesn’t want his true love to suffer in vain.

“I better go too” the brunette talks; with his back to the gray and wet outside so the light coming from Haru’s apartment baths his facial features.

The smaller man can clearly see the little creases that form on the sides those green eyes full of life whenever Makoto smiles from his heart. Those lips twisting up into that great beam that makes Haru’s heart to flutter in joy. Perfect skin his hands itch to touch; it looks soft, it looks gleaming. Haruka can almost count each eyelash covering the other’s eyes; eyes that he wouldn’t have any problem getting lost in them and let them eat him whole from taking his breath away.

He can visualize himself walking alongside this man for the rest of his life. Going to sleep at night and waking up next to him every morning. He can imagine how bright his life would be with that soft grin welcoming him after a day of hard work. He can almost hear the gentle voice calling his name to talk about whatever. All of this, all of these desires and wishes and yearns, makes his heart beat with no control and Haru honestly doesn’t care about that right now.

It’s at that moment when the artist decides what his new project is going to be.

Haruka can’t explain why he did it or what inside him took possession of his body to act like this, but as Makoto moves away the blue-eyed grabs him by the hem of the jacket’s sleeve; making him stop.

“Haru?” Makoto doesn’t turn to his direction. His voice is visibly confused and, dare Haru say, expectant.

“Stay”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s only a word of four letters. A single word formed of sounds. One syllable. A vocal with three consonants organized in a way to construct a word with a sense.

“Stay”

The other man repeats and Makoto doesn’t venture on turning around to face him. Fear creeping inside his body like a worm trying to reach his heart that is bumping its way up to the brunette’s throat. He’s confused; why is he feeling fear? Of all the range of emotions there are for his mind to choose, it decides for the one he personally doesn’t want.

He doesn’t want to feel this, much less in front of Haruka or because of Haruka. Why is he afraid? Is he afraid of Haru? Of being close to him?

But at the same time there’s a part inside of him that wants to accept; just accept and get inside. Get closer to the artist, something inside of him insists, get closer and be with him. Because, deep in him, he knows that even if Haru is the main reason for him to feel like this; Haru is also reassuring and his body calms with just him calling his—

“Makoto”

Ah, there it is. His name coming from those lips, his name in form of a prayer with that voice that makes his ear tingle for more. He almost feels brave enough to ask Haruka to repeat his name.

“Ok”

The brunette finally says with roughly a whisper but enough for Haru to release his jacket. Makoto hears him move back inside the apartment and he follows, feeling immediately the warmer climate in comparison to outside.

“Do you want to eat something?” Haru asks after closing the door; making the taller man jerk a little.

“Ah, sure, Haru. Thanks” Makoto replies as he tightens the cane’s handle between his hands.

The green-eyed would wish to stop what he’s doing – feeling all antsy and stuff – because he doesn’t want to make Haru feel uncomfortable. Whatever is happening to him; it shouldn’t affect the artist or anyone at that instance.

“Is mackerel ok?” he is asked while walking to the table they were previously sitting. Makoto can’t help it when a chuckle escapes from him.

“Sure, Haru” and so he sits at the table to wait.

The host doesn’t talk much – Makoto already knows that – but he’s also silent in everything he does and this is further proven when Haruka starts cooking. Only the slightest of sounds are made; wrapping paper being torn apart, the sharp knife cutting, water sometimes running down the sink, the salt and pepper being shaken, the hiss of the fish on the grill, all being accompanied by the smooth noise of the rain coming from outside. The green-eyed’s nose soon is embraced by the delicious and really appetizing scent of the mackerel. It has a buttery feeling in the air alongside with the spicy pepper.

His mouth is practically watery when the chef finishes cooking and places the dish in front of him.

“Here, Makoto” he says and sits in front of him “It’s rice and mackerel”

“Thank you, Haru” Makoto graciously grabs the chopsticks and takes the first bite.

As suspected, it tastes wonderful. It’s just a simple dish, Makoto knows that, but something in it brings a calm sensation.

“Are you eating too, Haru?”

He should try to make conversation if only to be able to keep hearing the artist’s voice.

“Yes. The same”

Makoto listens carefully and little noises come to his ear. Haru grabbing the chopsticks, moving in his chair a little and blowing a little before getting silent again, surely because he’s biting. The brunette frets slightly in his place because he realizes this would be the equivalent of staring.

They eat in comfortable silence with Makoto interrupting the quietness every now and then; asking simple questions – “How is college going?” “What about finals?” – and Haruka answering him with monosyllables that somehow feel full of information and emotion at the same time.

Dishes get slowly empty with each minute until there’s nothing else to pick from them.

“That was really good, Haru!” Makoto compliments from his heart.

“It was just mackerel” he picks up the dishes and goes to the kitchen to wash them.

Silence again except from the water pouring on the bidet and the clatter of plates being washed.

A question remains unanswered, though.

Why did Haru invite him to stay longer?

Moving away the sleeve of his jacket, Makoto touches his watch; it reads 10 PM. It’s really late and he’s sure they both have stuff to do at the morning; being college students and all. He should get going, he should stand up and say goodbye.

And yet he doesn’t.

He feels heavy as if made of iron. His legs don’t respond to his command of getting up. Is his brain even commanding to stand up? It doesn’t seem that way.

Makoto wants to stay.

He has to admit that much – only in private of course –. He wants to stay and he will as long as Haru accepts him here. It doesn’t matter if the prickly sensation of fear rises again inside of him; he’s going to stay longer and that’s final.

“Makoto”

His name that sounds like an invocation again. Haruka is close, Makoto can hear him and feel him; maybe standing at his side? He has the table in front of him, after all.

“Yes, Haru?”

The other man doesn’t reply immediately and it makes Makoto’s stomach ache without an specific reason.

“For being here” the artist commences “… Thanks”

Makoto hopes Haru doesn’t have a good hearing because it would be embarrassing to try to explain why his heart is running wildly. Haru’s voice travel all the way to the brunette’s ears and it leaves a silky sensation in them.

_“Why don’t you ask him yourself?”_

Rin’s voice creeps inside his mind. No. This isn’t the time for this. Makoto definitely isn’t ready for this at this moment and should stop, but his fingers twitch at the thought and he has to clench his fists over his knees to try to control the tremor.

“Makoto?”

No, that isn’t fair. Haru can’t just call his name with that voice of his. That silky, smooth and fluid voice of his.

His body jolts as he feels something touching him by the shoulder. It’s warm and it tightens a little; must be Haru’s hand.

“It’s ok, Makoto” the called can hear Haru kneel at his side, his hand moving from the shoulder to the arm “I’m here”

“Haru”

It’s only a word coming from his mouth. A word formed by four letters. Two vocals and two consonants. Two syllables. It comes as a whisper, a raspy and soft tone that feels as if it’s taking Makoto’s breath away.

“Can I—“ the already known knot appears again down his throat and it’s difficult to talk past it “Could I to—“

It’s hard and it hurts with a burning ache. The green-eyed covers his face with a hand when he feels a stingy pain behind the orbs with threatening tears just about to drop. He’s afraid again and it’s clear by the way his shoulders tremble.

“Makoto”

The sound of his name wraps his senses back, pulling him from the fearful hole he was getting into without realizing.

“It’s ok” Haru coos in a whisper “You want to ask something? Do it”

Haru may be calm and serene right now, but how will he react?

“Could I touch your face?” Makoto says and he regrets it the instant it goes out of his system because his voice is so insecure and kind of pitchy.

Makoto is expecting more questioning, something like “Why are you asking that?” or maybe “Don’t you think that’s weird?”, but everything he can hear is a low gasp and sudden movement. This is to be expected, Haru surely now finds him strange and will ask him to leave and probably never ever talk to hi—

“Yes” is heard in the middle of the eternal darkness in Makoto’s eyes “You can”

The whole universe must have stopped in that instant. Because Makoto’s ears cease to perceive any sound, but maybe it’s because his heart somehow flew to his head and it’s beating hard against the timpanis. His lungs also stop working and like so his body feels numb because of the sudden lack of oxygen in his blood.

A few steps away and a chair being dragged to his side is everything Makoto needs to understand that Haruka is now sitting besides him. A hand tentatively touches his upper arm; it feels indecisive and unsure, but still doing its best to calm the brunette down. It’s a gentle invitation to advance on the issue at point.

“Ok” Makoto finds his voice again deep inside his throat, just right under the knot.

Slowly — oh, so slowly — Makoto lift both hands to put them over Haru’s shoulders. They are as he remember them; smaller and more slim than his. Soon he moves the palms upper and upper until he feels the artist’s neck.

 

* * *

 

His skin trembles at the gentle touch and yet he can’t move his blue eyes away from Makoto’s green gems that are looking at him but at the same time aren’t.

Makoto looks so determined, even if just seconds ago he was lacking of courage to ask. Since how long has his companion wanted this? And why did he decide to do it now? Nonetheless those questions don’t matter right now because Makoto’s hands are on him.

 

* * *

 

Haru is warm.

The skin on his neck is warm as his fingertips caresses with just the slightest touch. He shouldn’t delay the matter though, so he moves his hand a little more, reaching the chin and finally Haru’s cheeks.

It’s soft and warm. Makoto keeps moving his fingers little by little and he finds the eyes, eyes that close immediately. Taking the opportunity, the brunette passes his thumbs slowly over the eyelids. Long eyelashes tickle the buds of his fingers. The eye shapes is almondy.

 

* * *

 

Feeling Makoto’s hands over him, touching every centimeter of his skin, is making said skin tingle for more.

The brunette’s hands are kind of cold and they feel refreshing on him; like a chill wind at night under a full moon with shimmering stars reflecting against the ocean.

After touching the eyelids, the hands travel to the center of his face, caressing the bridge of the nose.

 

* * *

 

The nose is sharp and straight, slim and kind of delicate. He gently moves his thumb down over it to the point of the nose.

Makoto then cups Haru’s face with both hands. Cheekbones strong and head’s shape a little smaller than the brunette’s himself.

He takes in a breath and gulps.

 

* * *

 

Makoto’s Adam’s apple bumps a little when he gulps. His lips are parted and his breath slow.

His senses go over the roof when he feels one of the green-eyed’s thumb pass over his lips. It’s slow, it’s gentle and it’s calming, but Haruka has to use all of his self-restrict to not kiss the thumb. The touching then gets a little more rougher, just a bit, or maybe it’s Haruka’s own lips reacting to the touch because they part slightly, letting a sigh leave from inside.

 

* * *

 

The warm breath hits against his thumb, making every single hair in him to stand on end like a domino reaction. He surprises himself when realizing that now his own breath is uneven. Haru’s lips are slim, soft and lush at the touch. Makoto passes his finger over them again, still not believing just how these lips really are.

Once again he cups the face in front of him, but this time he moves the hands a little behind the head. Haru’s hair is soft and short, and he can’t help himself when he starts massaging a little, clenching his hands around the artist’s head.

A little gasp is heard in front of him.

 

* * *

 

Did he seriously just gasped? He can’t find in himself to care, either way, so he lets it pass as if nothing. Soon he’s reciprocating the touch, moving his head against Makoto’s hands that once again lowers to cup his cheeks. Not a single second they get apart from his skin.

The dark-haired dares to lift his own hands and circle them around Makoto’s wrists, making the other man to tense up. Haru takes it a step further and gets his face closer to Makoto’s.

“Makoto”

He says and almost doesn’t recognize his own voice; it being raspy and low in a single sigh.

 

* * *

 

At what moment did Haruka move so close? He is so close Makoto can feel the gasp that came along with his name.

Haruka is close, so close.

His thumb strokes again the lips that immediately receives him with another gaspy breath of his name.

Close, so close.

 

* * *

 

Haru wonders if Makoto realizes he’s biting his lips.

“Makoto”

He calls him again and the yearning can be easily recognizable.

Close, so close.

Just a little more and—

“I need to go”

What?

Makoto lets go of his face slowly and so does Haru of the brunette’s wrists.

“Thanks for everything, Haru. Really” the green-eyed is smiling softly and then stands up. Haruka follows.

“Sure” he answers.

“And—you know, thanks for, uh, the touching your face thing” Makoto looks nervous “But I was really curious about it”

“It’s ok”

They walk to the door and the dark-haired opens it.

“Good night, Haru”

“Good night, Makoto”

The taller man gets outside but disappears behind his own door quickly. By his part, Haruka closes the door and leans his back on it.

His breath is still uneven and his skin itch.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

In the middle of the dark and cold room Makoto is resting his back against the front door. His hands are trembling while clenching tightly the cane that guides him forever, his knees shaking uncontrollably, his skin feeling warm and trickling as if yelling for something and his breath uneven and roaring in his ears.

Makoto had to run away from Haru. He just had to, because if he didn’t then his mind and heart would collapse.

Passing a hand through his brown threads on the head, he lets out a sigh coming from his lips. The sigh feels heavy and barely does something to regulate his breathing.

What he felt just then, when he was touching Haruka’s face, was weird and confusing. The beating of his heart was, and is right now, so hard it was, and is right now, so painful he felt like throwing up. Thankfully the knot inside his throat prevented it.

A trembling hand goes up to his lips and caresses them with the thumb, the one that touched Haru’s lips. He can feel the slight tremble of the finger against the lips and he wonders if it was the same with Haruka. Did Haru feel his trembling? Did Haru notice his shaky breath against him? What if he did? What did he think of it?

And how will Makoto talk to him now?

This can’t continue like this. Makoto needs to cool his head and control what he’s feeling. If not, he thinks he’ll go insane.

The troubling thoughts are interrupted when his phone starts ringing with Rin’s tune.

“Hello, Rin.” he tries his best to answer with the most normal voice he can conjure, but the shakiness in his hand is still evident.

“What happened?” sadly Rin can always call bullshit.

“What do you mean?” Makoto asks feigning wellness. He finally walks towards the living room, sitting on a couch.

“Something happened and now you’re acting weird. So, what happened?”

It seems Rin won’t let the issue die, so Makoto should simply tell him.

“I asked Haru if I could touch his face. I just finished and I’m in my place now.” the sole memory on the back of his head make his fingertips burn.

“Oh, you really did? And how was it? Was it as gross as I told you?”

Makoto knows Rin is trying to break the tension from the conversation, but he isn’t feeling like it right now.

“No, it wasn’t” the brunette commences “In fact, it was…”

He finds it difficult to explain how it was. Should he describe what he got from Haru’s face? Should he say what he felt while touching him? Should he tell Rin what he’s feeling right now?

“Makoto?” his name wakes him up from his mind “Is everything alright? Did Haru say something to you about it?”

“No. No, Rin” Makoto covers his eyes with the free hand, massaging the temples “I… I liked it. Touching him. I liked it. Maybe a little too much.”

Rin doesn’t say anything for a brief moment until Makoto can hear a soft and full of surprise “Shit”.

“Why? What did you feel? Was it that different from your family and me?” the redhead continues asking and the green-eyed honestly can’t think of the answers as fast.

“I—I don’t know, Rin” his voice cracks a little at the end and he hates it “I just did the same I did with you. The usual touching of cheeks, eyes, nose, and—“ Makoto has to stop himself before mentioning Haruka’s lips.

“And?...” it doesn’t go unnoticed by Rin though.

“And head.” he lies.

“And so what? Why was it different?”

“It felt different.”

Even if he isn’t sure he should be saying all of this to Rin, he feels like something is going to break out inside of him if he doesn’t talk about it.

“How did it feel?” his friend questions.

“As if…” his fingers move a little without him noticing “As if I wanted… no, forget it. It’s weird.”

“Makoto, just fucking say it.”

Rin knows when to make pressure to Makoto because he knows the brunette sometimes can be a little bit too passive about something, just to not be a bother to other people. And Makoto knows this. Taking a deep breath, Makoto continues talking.

“As if I wanted to never let go.” he says quickly and without permitting his lungs to take a rest.

His heart is beating hard and is everything he can hear inside his head that is burning and messed up in confusing thoughts. Why is he feeling like this? Why that deep part at the back of his brain is telling him to go back to Haruka and never let go? When he comes back, Rin’s voice is sounding desperate and calling his name.

“Makoto!”

“Yes, yes! I’m here!” he covers his mouth with a hand when realizing he is yelling. His mind drifts immediately to Haru; he doesn’t want the other man to hear him through the walls.

“Makoto, are you sure of what you’re telling me?” Rin sounds urgent for some reason and Makoto thinks it’s because, surely, the redhead thinks he’s being weird “Are you **sure** you feel like that with Nanase?”

Copious amounts of tears fall down Makoto’s eyes; he doesn’t even realize at what moment he started crying.

“I—I don’t know” voice shaky and a little broken “It’s weird. I know. I’m being weird. It’s the first time I’ve felt like this and I don’t know what to do. It’s like I want to be with him but at the same time I don’t because it terrifies me? Rin, what can I do?”

His friend doesn’t answer immediately, in fact he’s in complete silence and Makoto begins to fear the worst.

“Listen, Makoto” Rin’s voice is tranquil and calm, but serious at the same time “I can’t tell you what to do”

“I know, but—“

“What I **can** tell you, though, is that you should trust your gut. You want to be with him? Be with him. But I’ve always told you to be careful and my advice stands the same. Be careful”

“I can’t be with him”

“But you just said—“

“I know what I said. I want to be with him, but I can’t”

“You seemed fine when we were at his place”

“Things got weird when we were alone. It was like… like…”

“Like being pulled towards him by a mysterious force?”

Makoto is surprised how exactly Rin managed to summarize everything he felt into a single sentence. How did Rin know? Makoto at first was hoping this conversation would help answer his questions but it seems the only thing he has got is more doubts.

“How did you know, Rin?” he asks while wiping the tears with the back of his hand.

“You made it sound like that at the beginning, I don’t know” that’s bullshit and Makoto knows it. But whatever “So… what is your plan?”

“I don’t know, I feel so confused right now”

“Ok, let’s make things clear. You want to spend time with him, right?”

“Right”

“But you’re afraid of being with him alone, right? For whatever reason”

“Right” the idea of being afraid of Haruka, a man who didn’t do anything harmful to him really pains him.

“Then don’t be alone with him! Nanase and I still have that race going on, right? So maybe tell him I told you to arrange the race, I don’t know, the day after tomorrow? Like that you can be with him but not alone”

Makoto thinks is ridiculous how his heart is jumping of excitement with the plan. He really wants to be with Haru and spend time with him, even if he doesn’t exactly understand why this is happening. But at the end of the day, this is what he’s feeling and maybe he should follow these sentiments for the time being.

“Ok. Yes” Makoto says, still unsure “I’ll tell him that”

“And don’t see him tomorrow”

“What? Why?” Makoto also thinks is ridiculous how this part of the scheme makes him feel uneasy.

“Because you need to calm down. Just hear you! All crying and anxious because you don’t know what the fuck is going on”

Rin is right. Makoto should – must – remember that his life can’t go around Haruka. He has a life of his own, Haru also does, and as such he must concentrate on it.

“Ok. You’re right” another deep sigh escapes from his body without permission; it seems the sighs are really rebellious lately.

“You feel better?”

“Yeah, thanks, Rin” Makoto finally smiles.

“Good” the brunette can hear the smile all over the voice “Now, if I remember correctly, there’s a swimming pool near your place, right? Tell Haru we will meet there the day after tomorrow at 7 PM”

“I’ll tell him. I need to hang up now”

“Ok, I’ll be seeing you at the pool, then. Sleep well, Makoto”

“You too, Rin”

With that both men cut the call and Makoto stands up. He should go to sleep now, maybe that will finish the work of calming him down. Or so he hopes.

After changing clothes to his pajamas and sitting on the bed, he touches the wall next to his bed. It’s the wall he shares with Haru’s bedroom. He wonders if Haruka is already sleeping, comfy on his bed and under the warm covers. What type of covers would Haru prefer? Maybe thick ones, maybe thin ones. And what type of bed does Haru have, anyways? Maybe it’s actually a futon, or a big bed.

Makoto beats himself on the forehead.

He’s supposed to be in the process of calming down. Stop thinking about Haruka, he says to himself even if he knows it won’t work all the way. Oh, right, he should tell Haru about Rin’s date and he doesn’t have the other man’s phone.

Mustering all of his courage, he knocks on the wall while calling the other’s name, praying that he isn’t already asleep. Surprisingly, he’s replied with another knock that makes his heart race all over again inside of him.

Calm down, Makoto. Act normal.

“Did I wake you up, Haru? I’m sorry” he says, glad that his voice actually sounds in order.

“No, I was just preparing myself” Haru’s voice is as muffled as last time they did this, so Makoto gets closer to the wall almost putting his ear against it “What’s the matter?”

“It’s Rin. He called me” his head now is resting on the wall, feeling the cold sensation it brings with it. It’s relaxing on itself, but adding Haruka’s voice makes it better and like so Makoto closes his eyes, letting himself be covered in it “He insists on that race with you”

There’s silence at the other side of the wall, surely Haruka is thinking about it. Makoto should give him the option of saying no, it’s Haru’s time after all and he shouldn’t feel obliged to comply with Rin’s whims. Even if said whims are now in behalf of the brunette.

“You can always say no, Haru” but Makoto discovers himself wishing Haru’s yes.

“Will you be there?”

Makoto doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t that question. The brunette opens his eyes in shock and he can feel his heart yelling.

“Yes, I’ll be there” he answers.

“I’ll go”

His heart starts yelling even louder and Makoto is glad Haruka can’t actually hear it. Does it mean that Haru would have declined the offer if he, Makoto, didn’t go? Does it mean Makoto’s presence is wanted by Haru as well?

 _“Don’t be ridiculous”_ Makoto thinks for himself.

“Great, Rin will be happy to know” the brunette says with a smile, thankful that the yelling of his heart isn’t going out of his mouth “Good night, Haru”

“Good night, Makoto”

 

* * *

 

 

Haru is staring at the wall as if he had x-ray to see what’s happening at the other side. But of course he doesn’t have anything like that and everything he can see is the white, boring and cold piece of concrete that separates him from his true destined lover.

When Makoto left his apartment, Haru’s skin was still tingling and even now he still can feel the slight sensation of yearning. It feels like when someone caresses your skin just and only with the tip of their nails, making every hair of your body to stand up in reaction, sending a shudder down your spine and making your breath stop; it’s pleasant but you still want and desire for more, to deepen the touch to something more.

In the darkness of his room, Haruka is already wearing his sleeping clothes and over the bed. He licks his lips at the memory of Makoto’s touch over them. They were so close, so close that Haru could feel Makoto’s breathing. Just a few centimeters and they would have linked their lips together.

His whole body trembles at the idea.

All of this feels great to some level, but he also feels bad or something like that. He feels badly because he wanted more from that moment. He wanted to touch Makoto as carefully and, dare he say, lovingly as the other man was doing with him. Pass his fingers through the brown hair that decorates Makoto’s head, caress his cheeks with the thumbs of his hands to feel the skin on them and kiss those lips that look so tempting but are out of range and question.

Without thinking much, Haru stands up and goes to the kitchen. It’s already late at night but he really needs to talk with someone so he picks up his phone and chooses a name to call.

“Haru-chan!” the jolly voice receives him with the energy of a Sun in the middle of the summer “What is it? It’s so weird of you to call me, much more when it’s so late!”

“Is Rei with you?” Haru knows Rei is a very kind and good person, but right now what he needs is a peaceful conversation with Nagisa.

“No, why? Do you need him for something?”

“No, I want to talk with you”

He slowly walks to the living room and sits on the ugly color couch, considering that maybe he should throw away such hideous thing.

“Oh! Is something wrong?” Nagisa sounds worried suddenly “Something happened with Mako-chan?”

“No. Not really.” all things considered, nothing bad happened per sé “What do you feel when you kiss Rei?”

He regrets asking when hearing Nagisa’s high voice.

“Did you kiss Mako-chan?! Is he in love with you already?! Did you have se—!“

“I didn’t kiss him” he interrupts before the blond continues asking more embarrassing questions “He… he asked me to let him touch my face”

“Wow! That sounds so romantic!” Haruka is sincerely surprised someone like Nagisa would find touching someone’s face as romantic “I mean, for Mako-chan must have meant something big!”

It’s that sentence that brings Haru to reality. For Haru it was a personal and intimate encounter with his true destined lover, but for Makoto must have meant something else, right? To his knowledge, blind people don’t go around the world asking strangers to let them touch their faces. But Makoto did ask him and they’ve only known each other for a few days. Why did Makoto ask? What purpose did Makoto have? Well, they are neighbors so it’s kind of logic, but then again…

“And then what happened? Of course you let him, but I mean why are you asking me what I feel when kissing Rei?” he sounds playful and flirty, as if expecting some dirty and juicy gossip. Haruka can feel his eyes rolling to all the way back of his head.

“Because I’ve been feeling weird since then” he tries to explain in simple words but finds it hard “As if… as if… I don’t know”

“As if there’s something under your skin that pushes towards Mako-chan because you want more?”

That’s a rather specific way to describe it, but it matches completely with whatever is happening to Haru’s body at this moment. Maybe it’s a true lovers thing? But then how the fuck people can actually function and do stuff? If all the time they are yearning for the other’s touch?

“It’s pretty normal, Haru-chan, don’t worry!” Nagisa continues to explain “It happens the first few times you touch your true lover. Mainly if it’s as intimate and direct like touching your face!”

“I’ve touched his hands before and it didn’t feel like this”

“Mmmh…” Nagisa surely is thinking “Maybe it was a different situation?”

That much is true. When Haruka touched Makoto’s hands the other night, it was in the middle of a crisis or something. This time, the touching was made with familiarity, permission, and besides Haru guesses touching someone’s face is way more intimate than touching their hands. Mainly when they are alone and sitting close together.

“And how did Mako-chan react?” his friend asks, his voice full of evident curiosity.

How did Makoto react? The question repeats itself on Haruka’s mind and it doesn’t matter how long he thinks about it, he can’t precisely answer clearly.

Haru can remember Makoto’s fretting when he was afraid of asking. Maybe Makoto was afraid of Haruka rejecting him or thinking badly about him. And so he can remember how the green-eyed looked when he touched the skin of his neck; his breath hitched for a second but let it pass with a deep gulp in the throat. By the time Makoto passed his thumb over Haruka’s nose bridge the brunette’s hands were trembling, a tremble that intensified the moment he touched softly his lips, he also bit his lips for a moment.

When Makoto hold his head, Haruka felt as if he was losing the concept of reality but was brought back when those strong hands caressed his black hair. The green orbs in front of him were focused in the middle of the darkness and Haru for a second thought of drowning in them. Everything was sealed when Makoto, once again, passed his thumb over his lips and Haru had to grab him by the wrists because if he didn’t he would fall and get lost inside his whims and deep breaths.

Makoto was so close by then, and biting his own lips. Haruka’s heart felt like it was about to blast if he didn’t do something and that’s why he called his companion’s name, to assure himself that everything was real.

But when Makoto pulled away, the man seemed to be fine. Normal. Giving an excuse of curiosity and then going away from Haruka. Even just a few minutes ago, talking through the wall, Makoto sounded just fine. As if nothing out of the extraordinary had just happened.

So Haruka can’t really give an answer to that question. Makoto’s reactions were so different before, during and after the situation. There could be only two possibilities: one, Makoto didn’t feel anything; or two, Makoto is a really good actor.

“He said he was curious about it” the dark-haired finally responds “And that’s why he asked.”

“Mmmh…” the hum has a tint of deception, implying that the answer isn’t enough to satisfy his thirst of gossip “Well, that means he’s interested in you, isn’t it?!” his voice is jolly again “You’re making progress! I’m so happy for you, Haru-chan.”

Haruka deems Nagisa sincere enough and he wonders if he should tell his friend about everything that has happened. He doesn’t really like the idea of sharing his emotions and feelings, or anything related to his situation with Makoto. Of course, he had talked about it with Matsuoka but that was inevitable.

But, at the same time, Nagisa was the first one to push him into this “plan” of making Makoto falling in love with him. And Haruka knows that, even if the blond can be pretty annoying sometimes, Nagisa is looking out for his wellness and happiness.

“It seems…” the blue-eyed starts to talk “It seems Makoto does feel something for me” Nagisa gasps, a clear signal of interest.

“Why do you say so?”

“The other day he kind of cried when you and Rei left my place. He started to talk about how perfect you’re for each other, and some friends of him also being.”

“Oh, no! Poor Mako-chan!” he actually sounds worried “And what happened?”

“He practically ran away. And today I got to hang out with him and his friends—“

“And you didn’t invite Rei-chan and me?! **Rude** ”

“At my place—“

“In your place?! Haru-chan, **rude** ”

“When they left, I asked Makoto to stay longer—“

“ **Haru-chan, you sly dog** ”

“I’m hanging up”

“Ok, ok! Sorry, you may continue”

“And it was then that Makoto asked me if he could touch my face. He looked so nervous at first but when he started to do it he looked really into it”

“You have a pretty face, Haru-chan, I bet Makoto really liked touching it” for some reason, Haruka has a slight suspicious Nagisa is trying to be dirty “But why do you say he has feelings for you?”

“It’s just a theory” Haru echoes, remembering his previous conversation with Matsuoka “But what if Makoto is feeling badly because he’s having emotions he doesn’t understand? He doesn’t know we’re supposed to be together after all”

“That does make sense! When I’m don’t see Rei-chan or something for a long period of time I get cranky”

Haruka knows perfectly well how Nagisa gets whenever he’s separated from Rei for too long. “Cranky” wouldn’t be the word he would use. More like “Apocalyptical Tantrum” with a touch of “Sorrow”.

“You should spend more time with Mako-chan, Haru-chan, like that he’ll feel better! And give him hugs! You can always invite him with us!”

Haruka isn’t that sure about the hugging part.

“I’m meeting with him again the day after tomorrow” Haru continues talking “A friend of his is a swimmer and wants to race with me”

“Oh! Can Rei-chan and I come?”

He doesn’t know why the blond is interested in something like that, maybe he actually got jealous of him hanging out with Matsuoka and Yamazaki, but he also doesn’t have a real reason to deny him such occasion.

“Sure” he doesn’t think anyone will get mad, anyways. After giving his friend directions and a time, Haruka decides it’s about time to stop talking.

“Yeah, ok, Haru-chan! Sleep well”

Nagisa hangs up before Haruka replies with his farewell, as usual.

 

 

The morning rises with its warm light, entering across the room from the only window on Haruka’s bedroom. But it isn’t the sunshine beaming what makes his eyelashes to flutter and open lazily. The blue eyes are promptly received by the white roof over him and his skin shivers as a chill sensation surrounds him whole, even when he’s covered with a blanket.

Slowly, he turns over the bed to rest on his stomach, looking to the window. No wonder his room is feeling a little cold, he left the window open last night. Turning on the bed again, he checks the hour at the clock hanging from a wall. 7 AM. Damn, he still had another hour of sleep.

He could just lie around on bed until his alarm goes off.

 **Or** he could spend an extra hour at the bathtub.

Deciding that the last option is more in accordance to his necessities, Haruka gets up from the comfy cushion. He closes the window, picks clean clothes and exits the room. A soft musical tune welcomes him at the small corridor and he can’t help it when a small smile creeps on his lips.

It’s jazz music.

Momentarily forgetting about his decision of taking a much longer bath, the dark-haired walks further to the living room and the music intensifies just a little. Haru can’t call himself a musical expert – he doesn’t know how to play any instrument – and he never paid much attention to this type of art, much less to American jazz, but now he relates the melody with Makoto.

The double-seat couch creaks when he sits.

He guesses Makoto must really like jazz because he hears it about all day. From the moment he wakes up to the second he decides to go to sleep. The blue-eyed wonders why. It’s rational to think that Makoto would be a better listener because he drives his life with his hearing, but then why specifically jazz music? Wouldn’t any kind of music be as good?

People often complain about how noisy rock music is, for example, or how boring traditional music is. To each their own, of course, but that doesn’t respond Haruka’s question. Maybe he should simply ask Makoto about it. Plus, it would be another excuse to talk to him.

Another song starts and with it Haruka gets up from the couch. He shouldn’t spend so much time listening to the other’s movements because that’s kind of creepy.

Two hours later, Haru is finally out of the bathroom. The apartment now is in complete silence, which means Makoto should have gotten out of his place already. That’s bad, Haru had the smallest hope of going out at the same time as the brunette and then they would walk to the train station together.

Maybe he should memorize Makoto’s schedule.

Ok, no, that’s really creepy.

Eventually he finishes eating the delicious mackerel – heavens be blessed for the creation of this precious and delectable fish – and gets out of the apartment. A somewhat cool wave of air hits him immediately in the face; the autumn is just arriving so it isn’t that bad, but Haruka can admit that bathing on cold water for two hours and then going out to the street isn’t the brightest of ideas.

It shouldn’t matter though, and like so he continues his way towards college even if he sincerely doesn’t want to go. The ruined canvas from yesterday invades his thoughts. It’s a good thing he already decided what would be the new project instead but maybe he should tell the professor in charge of the exposition of the change.

He gets distracted by a sound coming from below and when looking at the floor Haruka discovers the white cat with blue eyes Makoto was talking to the other day. The animal is looking directly at him as if it knew Haru is Makoto’s neighbor, sitting next to an electricity post. Just like music, Haru can’t call himself an animal expert; he has had never a pet to call his own. Most of the time animals can be tiresome to take care of.

But this cat is Makoto’s, in a way.

Haruka squats in front of the cat at a rational and safe distance, offering his hand to the quiet animal who is still staring at him. Makoto made it look so easy. Maybe if he talks to it.

“Here” he says and looks around for a moment, just to make sure no one is seeing this lousy scene “Come here”

The cat, expectedly, doesn’t move a centimeter; it doesn’t even blink at him. It’s then that he realizes he doesn’t have any reason to try to be a regular with this cat. It’s not like the animal lives with Makoto at any case, and it definitely won’t live with them once they move in together.

The burning sensation of a blush over his cheeks reminds him he should probably get going.

 

* * *

 

A big yawn sneaks its way out of his lips. He once read yawning happens when there’s not enough oxygen on the brain, so it’s the body’s measure to assure the brain is well oxygenated. Makoto is sure his brain needs all the oxygen in the planet to be able to work properly this morning.

Last night when he said good bye to Haru through the wall he had thought he would be able to sleep soundly. Oh, how wrong he was. How naïve of him to think like that.

As soon as he laid his head on the soft pillow, ready for a good night of sleep and rest, his mind started to think about how it was just a wall what separated him from Haru; a thin wall at that. If that wall weren’t there, he could have easily reached his hand towards Haru to touch him. Maybe even hold hands. Yeah, Makoto is sure holding hands with Haru must be really pleasant.

 He suppresses a groan in hassle at the thought. He is supposed to get his life in control this day, not thinking about Haru 24/7, even if that plan sounds more alluring for an unknown reason.

But even if he knows that, even if he knows that thinking about Haru isn’t part of the plan, that doesn’t impede his head to not give a damn about said plan. He’s been up for barely five hours and he already feels anxious because he isn’t permitted to meet or talk with the new neighbor.

It’s not like he is looking out for it to happen. He wasn’t actively trying to be with him for the past days, it just kind of happened, right? And it’s to be expected when they live in the same building, in the same floor and just right next to each other!

He is quick to ignore the little voice in his brain who reminds him how he pretty well invited Haruka to the picnic with Rin, Gou and Sousuke.

Putting that aside, he’s kind of nervous about tomorrow’s hang out at the pool. Being blind, he depends a lot of his other senses to feel what is around him, be it with hearing, be it with touch, even be it with smell. But a pool immediately cuts all those capabilities to almost zero.

Being totally honest, being in the water is scary for him because it’s then that he truthfully feels trapped in his body. But at the same time the sensation of him passing through the water makes him feel alive.

When he confessed his fears to Rin, all those years ago, the redhead promised him to find a way to make him less scared and the very next day a very excited Rin suggested the backstroke. With that type of swimming, his face wouldn’t have to be underwater. Of course his hearing would still be affected, but the idea of facing away from the water made him feel better. Still, he never thought of taking swimming more seriously.

He just hopes Rin doesn’t expect him to be in the water with them tomorrow.

“Tachibana” a whispers calls him next to his ear. It’s a male voice he recognizes as one of his classmates of this period. His name is Hirano.

They are in the middle “Classic Literature of Japan” class, so this guy better have a good reason to talk to him with the risk of putting them in trouble. Well, it’s not like Makoto is paying any attention to the lesson of “Literature on the Hôreki Era” anyways.

“What is it?” the brunette replies, with a low voice to not be noticed by the professor.

“I have this date tonight” Hirano continues talking and Makoto can already guess to where this is going “But my girl refuses to go out unless I bring some company for her friend”

It’s not the first time people invite him to these “double dates”, what he can’t comprehend is why he’s asked in the first place, he’s blind after all. Gou once told him that girls usually do this thing of asking for tons of double dates, due to the possibility of reaching more people at once will increase the possibility of finding their true lover.

If Makoto remembers correctly, Hirano already found his true lover so this date must be his girlfriend, and she wants him to bring a companion to see if, by coincidence, this mentioned companion is her friend’s true destined lover. Makoto usually denies such invitations because he doesn’t like the idea of wasting someone else’s time but if he says no, he will be in his apartment alone with Haruka next to him, separated by a thin wall.

He guesses he could use the distraction.

“No pressure or compromise, of course!” Hirano assures “It’s just that she is really stubborn…”

“Sure, Hirano. I’ll go” Makoto supposes Hirano is surprised at his answer because he starts stuttering.

“O—ok, Tachibana. Thanks, I’ll tell Minori, my girl”

Hirano discreetly tells Makoto time and direction and the latter uses the pointed stylus to rapidly write the information. They’ll meet at a small restaurant in midtown, famous for serving delicious nabeyaki udon, at 8 PM.

Sadly, he has free time from 6 PM until then and now he’s sitting at his apartment on a chair in the dining table, trying to entertain himself from the wall next to him, trying to not pay close attention to any sound coming from there. He even turned on the music a little higher just to guarantee he won’t hear anything coming from Haruka. Wait, what if the sound is bothering Haruka? He should lower the volume, and maybe go to Haru’s and apologi—

Another groan full of exasperation leaves his body. Makoto hides his face between his arms, feeling the coldness of the table on his forehead. Tentatively, he touches the nubs of his watch and it reads 6:45 PM. Just a few more minutes and he’ll go to the train station to the so waited date.

Should he change clothes? Maybe something more appropriate for a date? What do you wear for a date, anyways? Ah, why didn’t he think of this before?

Picking the cellphone out of his pocket, Makoto fast-dial the necessary number.

“Hello, Makoto”

“Hello, Rin” an instant smile appears on his lips when hearing his friend’s voice “I need to ask you something”

“Go ahead” Rin grunts and Makoto can hear the shuffle of fabric, the redhead must be on bed. Crap, maybe he interrupted something with Yamazaki.

“Aren’t you busy?”

“No, I was about to take a nap” a faint sound of another voice mumbling comes to Makoto’s ears. So Rin really is with Yamazaki.

“Is Yamazaki with you? Did I interrupt anything?” the last thing Makoto wants to do is to meddle on Rin’s and Yamazaki’s alone time in these few days they have together.

“I told you, I was about to take a nap. Sousuke and I already finished”

“Finished?”

“You know” Rin’s voice sounds playful, as if he is going to laugh any second.

“I… know?...” Makoto is pretty sure he doesn’t know.

“Forget it” Rin sighs “What is it? You wanted to ask me something?”

“Ah, yeah” sometimes Rin is way too mysterious for him “What do you wear for a date?”

Rin doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and Makoto isn’t sure if it’s because his friend is surprised at the question or because he fell asleep. Maybe if he repeats the question.

“Rin? I thought you would kno—“

“I can’t believe it” Rin breaks his speech, full of surprise it seems “He actually did it…” the redhead murmurs this last part, more to him than to Makoto to hear.

“What? Who did what?”

“No, nothing!” Makoto hears another grunt and more shuffling of bed sheets, a door being opened and closed. Rin must have changed rooms “Are you going in a date? What’s the occasion?” for some reason Rin sounds happy, which is weird taking into consideration that he would be very happy if Makoto decided to become a priest.

“Well, this guy at school—“

“Wait, school?” now he sounds weirded out “Are you going out with a guy from school?!” maybe this turn of events doesn’t satisfy Rin’s strict standard “But I had thought—!”

Rin suddenly keeps quiet, dead quiet. Why is he reacting like this? Makoto would have guessed Rin would be a little hesitant, but this is just plain exaggerating.

“Tell me more” Rin says when he recovers his voice, tense and hard.

“As I was saying before **someone** interrupted me” Makoto starts “This guy from school has a date with his girlfriend, and she asked him to bring someone. So he asked me to go”

More silence comes from Rin. Now Makoto feels awkward for the both of them.

“But I don’t know a thing about dates, so that’s why I thought of asking you”

“So, uhm” Rin talks but then stops to clear his throat “A date, huh? That’s weird”

In Makoto’s humble opinion, it’s Rin who is acting weird. But he won’t tell him that, just for the sake of having a decent conversation and his questions answered.

“Yes. So, what should I wear?”

“Uhm… I don’t know… I never went out on dates before finding Sousuke, so…”

“Rin! You’re my only hope” Makoto fakes a wounded voice; that usually makes the trick.

“Oh, I know, why don’t you ask Nanase?”

Ok, **now** Rin is **definitely** being weird.

“I won’t ask Haru that!”

“Why? You don’t want him to know you’re going on a date?”

That simple question breaks through his skull directly to his brain as an arrow hitting a deer. Not wanting Haruka to know he’s going out tonight on a date? Now that he thinks of it… he really doesn’t want the dark-haired to know.

The mere possibility of his neighbor discovering all of this makes him feel uneasy and nervous. It’s just like when Rin used to convince him of doing something dangerous when they were kids, and they promised each other to never ever tell no one about it, not even their mothers. Is he doing something dangerous? Something bad? Of course not, but it feels like it.

“That… that’s not true” Makoto tries to lie.

If Rin sees through the plain lie, he doesn’t say anything except for a “tsk”.

“Ok, I’ll help you” Rin says finally with a sigh “I don’t know why you accepted though. I had thought you didn’t like that type of things. Anyways, you look good in…”

 

 

A Street full of people walking in every direction, chill wind caressing everyone’s skin with soft promises of the colder coming days, and the loud murmur of sounds that covers the senses with a mute blank noise. All of this is what midtown represents to Makoto.

Half an hour later, Makoto is waiting in front of the restaurant for the others to arrive. He’s wearing a red button shirt with black jeans and shoes.

The smell coming from the restaurant behind him is really appetizing, opening his stomach with hunger and yearn of something hot to eat. His watch reads 7:55 PM, the group should be here any second now.

_“Why? You don’t want him to know you’re going to a date?”_

Rin’s voice echoes at the back of his mind. From that moment on, Makoto couldn’t shake off this anxious feeling from his skin. It trickles him in a bad way. His hands are a little sweaty and he can tell he’s fretting around in his feet.

He isn’t doing anything bad, he reassures himself, he’s just doing a classmate a favor. Nothing out of the extraordinaire. But he can’t help but wonder what Haruka would think if he discovered what Makoto is doing right now.

It doesn’t matter. Whatever Makoto does or doesn’t do in his free time shouldn’t be of importance in Haruka’s life.

What would Makoto think if he discovered Haru is going on a date right now?

His lips turn into a thin line and his hands grip the cane’s handgrip with such force Makoto can feel the blood getting colder in them. To make everything worst, his stomach forgets everything about the prospect of delicious food to turn into a well of knots. It feels as if a monster inside of him is biting, munching and eating him alive. It’s horrible.

The sudden thought of going away invades his head. He needs to go away. He needs to run all the way back to his building. He needs to meet Ha—

“Tachibana!”

A male voice in front of him says his name. It sounds happy and relieved. Makoto softens his facial features and hands, immediately feeling the blood running freely through his surely white fingers.

“Hello, Hirano” he smiles.

“I see you’re early! Good, good. Tachibana, this is my girlfriend Minori Kojima”

“Hello, Tachibana” her voice is dandy and bright “I’m glad you accepted the invitation”

“No problem, Kojima” he cocks his head with a smile this time.

“This is my friend” Kojima keeps talking “Reiko Nakagawa” Kojima sounds hopeful. Poor Kojima.

“Hello, Nakagawa” Makoto says with a calm voice and opening his eyes, making sure to tap the bottom of his cane on the floor. He can faintly hear Kojima gasping a little.

“A pleasure to meet you, Tachibana” Nakagawa’s voice is a little hard to get. She sounds pissed. Makoto isn’t surprised though, she came here expecting a possibility of finding true love but is encountered with him.

They enter the restaurant and order their food. The talking is nice and Makoto is glad of it, he had thought it would be weird or awkward. They talk about college, about what movies are in the theatre, music, their hobbies and such. But Makoto is very perceptive, and he can sense Nakagawa being uncomfortable.

He can relate to that.

After eating, Hirano asks him to spend more time with them. A walk on the park would be nice, he says, and the brunette accepts with a smile.

The park is calm and silent, empty of people, so Makoto can hear the crickets singing their music. Now the air has a musky and humid scent to it accompanied with an even more chill breath.

Hirano and her girlfriend are walking a little more ahead, leaving him alone with Nakagawa.

“I’m sorry” she says suddenly.

“Mmmh? What is it?” he asks because he can’t remember something worthy of an apology.

“I need to be honest with you”

Ah, surely Nakagawa will tell him she isn’t interested in him. That he shouldn’t get any wrong ideas from this. It’s ok, Makoto thinks, he also isn’t interested in her.

“I was forced to come” Nakagawa confesses and that really is unexpected.

“You were forced?”

“Minori-chan insists on taking me on these ridiculous double dates” she’s obviously pissed “No matter how many times I ask her stop, she doesn’t listen”

Makoto would love to ask why she doesn’t care of finding true love, but it of course isn’t any of his incumbencies.

“I already found my true love” a soft whisper reaches his right ear as the steps next to him stop, so he also cease his walking.

They both fall in a silence only interrupted by the crickets and the distant talking of Hirano and Kojima far away from them.

“You…” Makoto starts, looking behind him to face her “You found it? Then why your friend—“

“She doesn’t know” her voice cracks a little at the end. She must be feeling guilty of keeping such an important thing a secret from her friend “No one knows” she’s definitely crying by now.

Oh, shit.

“But why haven’t you tell anyone?” the brunette perfectly knows he shouldn’t be asking this.

“Because she already has a child” her voice is muffled, she must be covering her face with her hands.

Makoto’s throat goes dry. People having sex before finding their true destined lovers isn’t anything new, but society loves to feign ignorance about it and even condemn people for it. As previously said, why would you have sex with anyone else but your true lover?

“But I don’t care” Nakagawa says, sobbing and sniffing “I love her and her child. His name is Seiichi, he’s adorable” she actually giggles at the memory of the child “But we are so scared”

He can only mildly understand how she feels. Society would absolutely shame on both of them and the child. Maybe even call them horrible names; Nakagawa’s true love for having sex before finding her true lover and Nakagawa for accepting her true lover like that. In fact, Nakagawa’s true lover must be suffering from stigma right now, having a child from someone who isn’t destined to be.

They both must hurt so badly.

“Akemi-chan is so amazing, she’s so strong and brave” Nakagawa says with a calmer voice but the traces of sadness still present “She’s always telling me that things will get better with time. And I hope so. I truly hope so”

Makoto can hear steps coming to him.

“I’m sorry, Tachibana, I only made you waste time. But even being here hurts me”

Makoto gulps hard at her voice.

“Being on this date hurts. Because I already have Akemi-chan and Seiichi-chan, but I’m here with you instead. I don’t know how people cheat, it feels horrible” she chuckles with sorrow.

“Horrible?” he asks without thinking.

“Yeah” Nakagawa sounds a little distracted and surprised by the question “It feels like… like I’m dying, like drowning and my stomach is flipping all the time” she laughs nervously “It’s like a monster is eating me alive”

Makoto feels cold.

“Tachibana?” the girl calls him “Tachibana, are you ok?” now she sounds worried. Is she worried about him? But why? Ah, maybe it’s because his hands are clenching his cane with too much force.

“I need to go”

Without waiting for an answer or anything, Makoto starts to quickly walk his way out of the park. He actually wants to run, but running is dangerous, but this walking isn’t fast enough.

Fast enough for what? What is he trying to reach? Where does he want to go with such craving?

 

* * *

 

A dark and silent room is what welcomes Haruka when he enters his apartment. It’s about 10 PM and he knits his eyebrows at the strange silence. By this hour Makoto is still hearing his jazz music.

Haru has been outside the apartment all day as he had to go midtown to buy supplies for the new project he’s planning, so he has had hopes of seeing Makoto at least for a few minutes before going to sleep. But it seems Makoto isn’t home, maybe he is hanging out with Matsuoka or other friends.

After placing the shopping bags on the table, the dark-haired starts to rummage through them while ignoring the Art Store ones. He finds with a small smile what he’s looking for on the Music Store bag.

He leaves the bags over the table – he’ll accommodate them tomorrow – and walks towards his bedroom. With a flick of the wrist he opens up the little CD player on his desk, putting on the CD he just bought. Pressing the PLAY button, the room is engulfed in American jazz music.

Saxophone along with piano music fills his ears. Is slow and soft, almost like a caress over the back of his head. His hand travels all the way to that body part, passing his fingers through the dark locks. Haruka sighs at the memory of Makoto doing the same yesterday.

The bed creaks under his weight when he lets himself flop over it, moaning a little after a long day of walking around with so many people all over the place.

Now both hands are touching his face, just with the fingertips. It tickles and without a doubt it doesn’t feel the same as when Makoto did it, but he can always try to imagine his warm hands are no other but Makoto’s cool hands.

He would have never guessed that such a simple thing as touching face would become something so desirable for him. Who would have guessed that someday Haruka would yearn for that kind of touch over him?

Another sigh escapes from his lungs at the remembrance of Makoto’s image in front of him. Makoto biting his lips and gulping hard before passing his thumb over Haruka’s lips. Deliberately gradual and not only once but various times. Why did Makoto do that? Why did Makoto passed his thumb more than once?

If there’s something Haruka regrets it’s not being brave enough to also touch Makoto at the moment. How would Makoto react at that? What if Haru had passed his hands over the brunette’s cheeks, over his head, over those enticing parted lips?

Now is Haruka who is biting his lips after realizing his breath is heavy and low. He should stop before his mind drifts into more obscure thoughts.

 

* * *

 

A slam coming from the door he just closed makes his whole body jerk. That of course it’s ridiculous because Makoto himself made the door slam like that, but his physical being is feeling rather antsy and anxious for whatever reason.

His lungs are tired from running the last stretch of streets to the building. He knows it’s not a good idea to run while being blind but something deep inside of him made him not care about it.

The monster inside of him made him run.

When his brain starts to calm down, a musical murmuring reaches his presence. He can recognize such thing anywhere. It’s jazz music. How weird, he doesn’t remember letting the stereo on, but now that he really pays attention it doesn’t come from the living room, where the recorder is.

He keeps walking until he enters the bedroom. It’s subtle and almost not existent, but there’s music in here. Makoto gasps when he concludes the music is coming from the other side of the room.

“Haru” he says on a whisper and gets over the bed, touching the cold wall with both hands.

The monster inside of him is biting harder.

In the middle of the pain, Makoto places his forehead on the wall and sighs.

The monster inside of him is now yelling.

He knocks on the wall, once, and he’s praying for Haru to not be there, to not listen to him, but at the same time he’s praying for Haru to be there, he’s praying to hear Haru’s voice calling his nam—

“Makoto”

Another sigh goes out, it’s deeper and longer, almost reaching the edge of a restricted moan. Haru’s voice sounds perfect with the low jazz music as background. It feels silky on his ears and leaves a tingle inside of him

The monster inside of him is silent.

Another knock this time coming from Haru, and Makoto replies with one of his own.

But Makoto feels like crying, even if the monster isn’t biting anymore, even if the monster isn’t yelling anymore.

It hurts so much.

He’s in love with Haru.

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a while, but I'm back!
> 
> I wanna thank both [WaterbearCosmonaut](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterbearCosmonaut/pseuds/WaterbearCosmonaut) and [TheTachibanana](https://twitter.com/TheTachibanana) for being my two lovely betas! This is the first chapter being beta'd, so I hope the difference is noticeble lmaoooo.
> 
> Also, I've been receiving a lot of love as of lately, so I'll share it with you:
> 
> Mlim8 did an [amazing and cute comic](http://mlim8.tumblr.com/post/108606488653/for-the-first-time-color-me-in-love-by) for the 1st chapter.
> 
> Heresmellslikeyaoi did some[ cute fanart](http://heresmellslikeyaoi.tumblr.com/post/111342686552/i-was-reading-a-fic-called-color-me-in-love-and) of Makoto and Kou!. I'm always happy when my princess Kou receives love.
> 
> [Evievva](https://twitter.com/evievva) decided to do a [playlist!](http://t.co/ubc89AkVaJ)
> 
> Finally, Guratami did some [beautiful fanart](http://guramitami.tumblr.com/post/109154136154/i-love-this-fic-so-much-q-q) of the "touching face scene".
> 
> And that's it! Thanks again to all of you who spend time doing this precious things.

It’s funny how the brain works.

Psychological theories say there’s no such thing as a physical “psychological system”, such as the nervous system or the digestive system. If you open up someone’s body you definitely won’t find anything resembling a psychological system. And yet, humans are psychological beings.

The closest thing to a “psychological system” would be the brain. It’s from that organ that all emotions come from. But these things, these “emotions”, are a result of stimuli from the environment and from different neurotransmitters being produced inside said organ. If someone under normal circumstances sees a puppy playing, their brain decides it’s a happy thing and produces serotonin, and dopamine. But just a year later, that same person could see a puppy playing and their brain might decide it’s a bad thing, making them feel sad or scared. Why? Maybe that person had a bad experience during that year, maybe a dog bit them and now they are scared of dogs.

People are born without the ability to see colors, that’s nothing new. From birth, people are accustomed to a world full of grays, blacks and whites. It’s normal. It’s usual. It’s an everyday thing. They can spend the rest of their lives seeing the world like this and it’ll be normal for them.

But then, if destiny is on their side, one day they will be able to see in colors after discovering and meeting their true destined love. Their lives will be full and ruled by the wide variety of colors in the rainbow. And, of course these same colors can bring a whole new range of emotions.

Yellow is supposed to bring happiness, blue is supposed to bring calmness, and red is supposed to remind them of love.

Being able to see in colors it’s supposed to be something to be happy about.

And Haruka knows for a fact that he’s seeing in colors right now, the light blue on the ceiling of his bedroom can be proof of that. And yet.

And yet.

Haru is feeling so gray right now.

It’s funny how the brain works.

The yellowish morning light bathes the wooden floor of the bedroom, birds are tweeting and singing near the open window, and a cool sensation covers his face once again like a soft caress from a spirit of a coming autumn.

A sigh with a yawn is heard on the otherwise silent room. Dark circles under Haru’s deep eyes are proof of a sleepless night and little tears threaten to fall from the blue orbs. The yawn brings a shudder down the spine and Haru finds pleasure in how it awakens his body.

Last night, when he was listening to music that reminded him of green eyes and warm smiles, a knock on the wall that pulled him from the security and privacy of his thoughts. It was Makoto, but for some reason Haru’s chest was immediately filled with a desperate sensation. A constrictive feeling pressing around in his heart like he was deep in the dark ocean without being able to breathe and move.

When he knocked and called Makoto, the other didn’t reply instantly, so he tried again and finally heard another knock, but just that one. Haruka knocked a third time, then he called the brunette’s name a fourth time until his true love’s voice, muffled through the wall, said it was nothing. He said everything was fine, nothing was wrong, it was just a simple mistake made in the darkness of the night.

But that pressure inside of Haru’s heart didn’t let him be in peace. It felt like everything was wrong, as if something was hurting him badly and he couldn’t do shit about it because he can’t comprehend what is going on.

Something is up with Makoto, Haruka knows it, but he can’t do anything if the guy himself doesn’t say something.

The cold floor receives his feet the moment he gets up. Even if it hurts, even if his head is full of Makoto in pain, even if his whole body aches to run to the other’s side, he can’t. He must continue with the day, and it begins with going to school and dealing with people.

  
  


The sky is looking blue. It’s a pretty blue adorned with the white spots of fluffy clouds. All the trees are starting to have a different color in them; the alive green is no more, now slowly turning into a range of different yellows and sometimes reds that brings other type of life into the scene. Everything is being covered by a soft yellow hue thanks to the bright sun above.

A huge majority of people don’t like winter. And Haruka has noticed that those people are often the ones who can see colors. He has heard his classmates at college complain about how boring the white winter is. So void of colors. Haru guesses that’s why people fill the holidays with colors and lights. Personally, the dark-haired man can’t wait to be surrounded by the calmness and coldness of the white winter.

“Nanase-kun.”

His thoughts are interrupted by a soft voice. He’s walking down a hallway in search of a classroom for the next period but has to stop in order to see the young woman next to him. Her name is Maeda Yoshiko. They take the “Theory of Color II” class together, but he can’t remember if they have ever had a conversation before. In fact, he can’t even remember if he has heard her talk in class.

She looks nervous and out of place. Haruka starts to feel desperate because he doesn’t know what Maeda wants with him.

“I was… I was wondering,” she continues to talk, her hands are fretting and she can’t stand to look directly at Haru’s eyes “If we could talk later.” Haru can’t help it when his eyebrow arches in question. “Alone.” She finishes with a deep blush on her plump cheeks.

Making use of his vast memory of everyday happenings, he finds the data he’s looking for.

Maeda Yoshiko can see colors.

“If you don’t want to, it’s alright!” she’s quick to add when Haru doesn’t reply, waving her hands rapidly in front of her. “I know it’s weird of me to ask you this…”

Haruka would much prefer to not talk with Maeda. She’s being way too vague about what she wants with this “talk” and he isn’t in the mood for any nasty surprises. People cheating on their lovers is an everyday thing and it makes Haru’s stomach revolt to think that, maybe, Maeda is trying something funny here.

But looking realistically at things, Maeda doesn’t looks like someone who would do such a thing, seeming much too shy and timid to even dare do so. And it’s not like he has a real reason to say no.

He nods in silence, still looking at Maeda and the girl’s face brightens immediately with a wide smile and sparkly eyes.

“Thanks a lot! Is 6 PM alright? We could talk behind the library…”

All of the alarms inside of him are yelling and screaming, but then again he doesn’t have a real reason to deny her. 6 PM isn’t a good time, though, he has a date with Makoto—no, a race with Matsuoka at 7 PM. A race. With a friend. Friends being friends. Not a date.

“5:30 PM” Haru says. His last class ends at 5 PM, so that should be ok.

“Ok! I promise to not take too much of your time,” she jumps a little, looking a little more confident than before “See you later, Nanase-kun.”

With a final smile, she runs away from him, leaving Haru with a weird feeling in his gut. Without realizing it, he’s pulling out his phone and walking to his preferred solitary spot behind the building. The dial tone enters his right ear the moment he chooses the name to call.

“Haru-chan! I’m so happy you’re using your phone more frequently than before! It makes things easier.”

“A girl just asked me to talk later,” Haruka says with no warning. “She can see colors.”

“Uhm,” Nagisa is obviously confused. “Ok? What about it?”

Nagisa obviously doesn’t understand the gravity of the situation.

“What if she wants to cheat on her lover?” the dark-haired man continues, trying hard to suppress the annoyed tone in his voice.

“Why would she cheat on her lover with you?”

Honestly, it wouldn’t be the first time one of his classmates asked him “to talk later” and then confessing that they have that kind of “interest” on him. It’s annoying because every time he rejects them, they act bitter about it, not minding that they were the ones asking him to help them cheat. He guesses being the only one who can’t see colors – to everyone’s knowledge – in college makes him something like a “trophy” to win or a “walking taboo”. He never mentioned these things to Nagisa because he knows all too well his friend can be a little extreme, to the point of making an unnecessary scene in the middle of college in order to “defend Haru’s honor”.

“I don’t know,” Haruka lies through all his teeth “People are weird like that.”

“Yeah, they are,” Nagisa giggles. “But still, Haru-chan! Suspecting of a girl like that just because she can see colors is really unfair of you, don’t you think? Give her a chance.”

“Give her a chance”? His mind echoes. He and Maeda have never talked before this, so it’s natural for Haru to be skeptical about it. He isn’t really sure why he decided to call Nagisa this time; maybe because he now has Makoto in his life.

“Haru-chan?” The blond calls him when he stays silent too long. “Wait, does this mean you’re nervous? Oh, is it because Mako-chan?”

Haru rolls his eyes to no one. It should be obvious to anyone, but it seems it isn’t to Nagisa.

“It’s not like you’re cheating on him,” Nagisa laughs, “You’re just gonna talk with this girl and that’s it. I think you’re exaggerating things a little bit”

The dark-haired man actually gets offended at the accusation, mainly because it’s coming from Nagisa, the king of exaggeration.

“And if it indeed ends up with her trying to woo you and cheat, you just tell her ‘no thanks, but also fuck you’ and that’s it, Haru-chan.” Only Nagisa can swear and make it sound like something cute and adorable. “Don’t you worry your pretty head with those silly things, you’ll get wrinkles and Mako-chan will be surprised the next time he touches your face.”

“Have you…” Haruka starts, feeling nervous for no reason.

“Have I’ve been in that predicament before? But of course!”

Haruka’s eyes widen a bit. How can Nagisa be so calm about something like that when he has had to deal with the same thing? Maybe his friend is way more mature than what Haruka had previously thought.

“I mean, I’m super sexy and Rei-chan is super hot. Of course we’re flirted with once in a while! Even from people who can see colors. But, Haru-chan, it’s their business if they cheat. There will be always cheaters, but it’s up to you what you decide to do.”

Yes. His friend is way more mature than Haruka had given him credit for. Still, Haru can’t shake off the awkward feeling he’s getting from this entire situation. He has never been a man of words and if Maeda starts crying or something he will not know what to say.

“I gotta go, Haru-chan. Hey! I hope you haven’t forgotten about your date with Mako-chan tonight!”

“It’s not a date.” Haru doesn’t know why he feels like defending this point.

“Of course not, Haru-chan,” Nagisa giggles, making it obvious that Haru hadn’t convinced him at all “See you at 7, then. Bye!”

The pink-eyed man hangs up without letting Haru say farewell, as always. Haruka puts the phone in his pocket and looks up to the sky. What an annoying turn of events this day took. It was supposed to be a good day because later tonight he would see Makoto **and** swim, **at the same time**. What’s better than that? Nothing. But now Makoto is acting weird after last night and Haru has to deal with whatever Maeda wants from him.

He just hopes everything gets better.

  
  


It’s ridiculous how nervous he is over so simple.

Haru feels like he is doing something wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have accepted Maeda’s invitation to talk. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t feel like this if he hadn’t found Makoto already. But it’s ridiculous because Nagisa is right, it doesn’t matter if Maeda herself wants to talk to him with those kinds of intentions, all that matters is that Haruka won’t accept them. Anyways, it’s not like Haruka is cheating in the first place! They are just going to talk and that’s all.

And yet a little worm inside of him distracts him during class. It feels like the little worm is crawling just inside his skin, slowly, Haruka can practically feel it dragging itself under the thin layer that protects him from the world. Sometimes it bites and Haru feels the need to scratch his arm, other times his neck or leg. It’s only a little worm but Haruka is sure it’s pretty fat with little fangs because it feels omnipresent throughout his body.

How do cheaters do this all the time? Haruka isn’t cheating and he already feels rather antsy and bad about it. He truly can’t comprehend how someone would do this on their own will.

He can’t even concentrate on class – “History of Art II” – because everything inside his head is filled with that incessant scratchy sensation that’s encompassed his body. Haruka frets and tries to make himself more comfortable in his chair but it’s useless. He sees the clock hanging on the wall; it reads 4:55 PM. Just a few more minutes and everything will end.

He’s going to talk with Maeda, reject her, and then run home to take a long bath before going on his date with Makoto – he won’t even deny it’s a date at this point.

  
  


It feels like an eternity.

It feels like time and space are playing with him in a sick game of who can stretch this half hour of waiting the longest. Time usually doesn’t care about meaningless things such as humans’ lives, time continues to pass and run without any care in the world. Time is silent when you ignore it, when you are having a good time with someone and suddenly the sun is down and the stars are sparkling up in the night sky. But then, when you place all of your attention on time, it decides to take that attention and drag it for as long as it can. Time can be pretty jealous if you don’t pay enough attention to it.

That’s why right now Haruka is feeling as if time has stopped. As if time has decided to stay forever with him behind the library. It’s like time doesn’t want him to meet with this girl. But of course time isn’t all mighty and it still has to let go, even if time doesn’t want to.

Maeda arrives with a smile and a heavy breathe, she had run to the meeting spot it seems, but her eyes don’t stop sparkling for one second while looking at Haruka.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” she says with a tired voice. “For a moment I thought you wouldn’t come…”

Haruka doesn’t reply. He honestly isn’t interested on anything Maeda has to offer. He just wants this to end so the fat worm under his skin stops biting him.

“You must be wondering why I asked you to come.” Her breathing finally stabilizes with a sigh, placing her hand over where the beating heart must be.

Still more silence from Haru. The dark-haired man silently wonders what Makoto would think of him right now. Would he think he’s being rude? Probably.

“I have a confession to make, Nanase-kun,” she looks determined and Haru can’t help it when a knot forms in his throat. He tries, but fails, to swallow it down.

“Truth is,” Maeda continues “I’ve always admired you. I think you’re really brave, not being able to see colors but still decided to be in Arts.” The sparkle in her eyes brightens more intense and Haru is afraid of being blinded by it.

“It’s nothing.” He replies, thinking that he has been silent for too long.

“No, it isn’t ‘nothing’!” The girl shakes her head a little for a moment. “I’ve seen how others bully you, Nanase-kun. It’s really unfair…” Her determined voice lowers a bit, sounding sad out of nowhere.

“It’s nothing.” Haruka insists because it really is nothing. He doesn’t care what other thinks. All he wants right now is for this to end so he can go to Makoto.

“Well, maybe for you it’s nothing,” Maeda says “But for me, it’s inspiring.” Now both her hands are over her heart.

Haruka gulps once again and he clenches his hands. Here it comes for sure.

“I…” her lips tremble a little in anticipation “I can’t see colors.”

It’s cold. His body is cold like the deep and dark ocean. It’s sudden and uncomfortable. He really wants to leave.

He had thought Maeda was able to see colors. He was pretty sure about it, after all he is that “weird guy who decided to study Arts with no sense of color”. His thoughts are interrupted by the soft giggle coming from Maeda’s lips.

“You must be thinking I’m lying. I don’t blame you, I did say I’m able to see colors…” her eyes look down to the grey floor “But I did it because I was afraid of, you know…” she shrugs “Being bullied”

It makes sense. Haruka is a personal case of it. Classmates and even professors make snarky remarks about him not being able to see colors – no longer true, but yes. What really impress Haruka is that all of Maeda’s paintings and works are on color, which means she had to learn every single difference between every shade of gray in order to pass as a person who can see colors.

Haru himself can testify how hard that is, he didn’t even try because he had thought it would be too much trouble to begin with.

“For a long time since first semester, I had thought that maybe this wasn’t what I should do. Maybe Arts really wasn’t for me, but then I heard about you,” Maeda keeps talking, breaking the train of thought inside Haruka’s mind. “About how you can’t see colors and you didn’t care to say it to the world!” the shimmering in her eyes is back.

What does Maeda want with all of this, though? Why did she suddenly decide to tell him this?

“That’s why I decided to stay on Arts, you’re an inspiration for me, Nanase-kun.” She says with a soft voice, like she’s afraid of waking the world up.

Maybe time is feeling generous right now. Maybe time decided to give this girl just a brief moment of eternity. Maybe time isn’t jealous of Maeda because Haru feels as if time has just stopped running.

He? An inspiration for someone? He suddenly feels so out of place. No, he isn’t an inspiration. Haruka is just being Haruka, nothing else. He doesn’t do anything out of the ordinary and he’s sure he doesn’t deserve this recognition. Much less now that he’s lying to Maeda’s bright smile.

“I’m not extraordinary.” Haruka says finally. “I didn’t do anything to deserve your admiration.”

At any rate, it’s Haruka who should admire Maeda for taking the trouble of memorizing every shade of gray and put it into colors. It’s laughable how he still can’t learn and say the names.

“It’s ok, Nanase-kun,” she smiles with closed eyes and a cock of her head. “I’m not asking you to be extraordinary”

A soft breeze plays with their hair, marking the end of their little eternity. The little worm inside Haruka’s skin must have died because he no longer feels it. In its place is a tickly sensation coming from the fingertips and spreading through every fiber and extension of his body.

“Don’t you sometimes wonder what seeing in colors feels like?” Maeda asks him suddenly, looking to the side with her eyes fixed on a bed of flowers. “Sometimes I do. And I wonder if it really is like everyone says so”

More silence invades the space between them, but Maeda doesn’t look awkward or uncomfortable at all, and for some reason Haruka thinks the girl fits perfectly on the scene.

“But more than a desire for colors…” she keeps talking, now her voice is a soft whisper that barely reaches Haru’s ears. “It’s a desire for their colors,” she looks at him “You know, your true lover’s colors.”

“I mean, sure,” Maeda shrugs nonchalantly, “Everyone makes a big deal about the world being in colors, but we should concentrate on our lover’s colors, shouldn’t we?”

All of a sudden Haruka has this desperate need to see Makoto’s green eyes.

“I should get going,” the girl says, “Thanks for coming and hearing me out. See you later.” Maeda gifts him a last smile before turning around and walking away.

A shade of green immediately fills Haru’s memories. He still can’t memorize or name what shade of green it is, but he’s sure it’s the most perfect green in the whole world, if not whole the universe. But he’s also sure that Nagisa thinks Rei’s purple eyes are the most perfect shade of purple. Every single person who has found their true lover must think the same.

And how could they not? When another person was born just for you of course it’s going to be perfect. That person is supposed to complete you, or so society says, but Haru personally doesn’t feel that way.

Makoto is perfect the way he is. Makoto doesn’t need Haruka to be perfect. Makoto is his own light and his own rainbow, and as such he doesn’t need anyone to shine through this world, because Makoto should be considered a sun with how bright he shines by himself.

For his part, Haruka doesn’t feel like he was incomplete before finding Makoto.

They aren’t completing each other, they are adding more to one another. If Makoto is perfect to him, then Haruka is perfect to Makoto; two pieces of perfection coming together.

A deep sigh comes out of his lungs and Haruka feels like he’s breathing for the first time in a while.

He so wants to see Makoto right now.

 

* * *

 

The clock on his wrist reads 6:30 PM.

He should get up from bed and get ready for his da—for his hang out with Rin and—

And—

“Haru”

His heart clenches at the whisper of that name. A name that leaves a weird sensation on his lips. It’s tingly. It’s pleasant but at the same time so undesirable. It shouldn’t feel like this. It’s just a name.

Two syllables. Two sounds.

And yet—and yet

And yet—

“Haru”

Another whisper like a secret prayer to an unknown god.

He covers his face with his hands the moment he recognizes the prickly sensation at the back of both eyes. To be honest, all of his body aches and hurts.

It’s difficult to breathe as if the lungs inside of him are filled with boiling water, burning his heart with every beat and palpitation. His throat feels full of hard rocks and the only thing that can pass is that name he wants to call but doesn’t because he’s afraid.

He can feel how shaken his hands are against the skin of his face. The surface of his body feels like it’s being touched by smoky, hot coal; every single filament of the clothes he’s wearing strokes him like they are on fire.

He’s in love with Haruka and it hurts so much.

He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want to love Haru. It hurts so much to love him but he can’t help it.

Everything on his mind since waking up has been Haru’s voice. How soft it sounds, how attractive it sounds, how **perfect** it sounds with jazz music as background. The remembrance of the delicate and deep tune coming from Haru’s lips occupies all of his physical being and beyond, going bottomless within his mind and senses.

His hands travel to cover his lips in order to prevent them of calling that name again in the middle of the solitude darkness, but he can’t do anything against it when he softly caresses his lips with the thumb. A phantom memory of touching Haruka’s lips preys on him slowly and temptingly, coming from the fathoms of his mind.

“Haru.”

His eyes finally open.

Love isn’t supposed to be like this.

How can he, in the first place, fall in love? And so easily? Love isn’t supposed to happen like this.

“This” can’t continue. “This” should stop. “This” isn’t correct.

He can’t love Haruka because Haru and he aren’t destined to be.

It’s impossible and he knows it, but the beating heart inside his chest won’t leave the issue alone, neither will the little voice inside his head that’s yelling and screaming at him to be with Haru. But this can’t happen.

It isn’t fair to Haru, who can’t see colors, and it isn’t fair to Makoto, who doesn’t stand a chance.

The distant music coming from his phone brings him back to reality before he’s swallowed by sorrow. It’s Rin’s tune.

“Yes?” Makoto answers after picking up, relieved that his voice doesn’t choke.

“Hey, me and Sousuke are about to go to the pool. Want me to go and pick you up first?” his friend asks with a happy tune. Makoto feels guilty when he discovers he’s feeling envious of Rin’s happy and healthy relationship for a second.

“No. It’s ok, Rin. Thanks.” He still needs time to recover before going out.

“Ah, then you’re going with Nanase?” the question is innocent enough but somehow Makoto feels it like a hot knife thrusting deep in his heart.

“No, I’ll go alone.”

The redhead doesn’t reply and Makoto can’t blame him. Even if he’s trying his best to sound normal, he still can recognize the harsh tone on his voice and the weirdness in his speech.

“Alright,” Rin says finally, maybe deciding it’s better not to prey right now and Makoto is thankful of that “I’ll meet you there, then.”

“Of course.” But neither of them hangs up.

What would Rin think of him if Makoto told him about his new found love for the neighbor? He knows what society would think, at least. Falling in love with someone who can’t see colors is unheard of because they aren’t destined to be. Maybe Rin would stop talking to him. That possibility makes his heart squeeze painfully and suppresses in throat with a gulp.

“Oi, Makoto,” Rin insist after a moment of silence, hesitant, and Makoto jerks a little “You know you can count on me any time for whatever, right?”

Makoto wonders how true that is.

“Of course, Rin. Thanks.”

“I mean, I know we don’t see each other that often, but…” his voice gets so low and whispery Makoto has trouble hearing it.

The brunette gulps so hard he is almost sure Rin could hear it.

“Rin...” He’s surprised to find his voice is raspy “What… what does love feels like?”

He knows it’s a useless question to ask. He knows he’ll make Rin feel awkward about it. He knows he shouldn’t ask but he can’t help it.

“Love?” unexpectedly, Rin sounds taken aback. It’s a weird moment to be asking such a thing “Man, how do I explain it?…”

“What do you feel when you see Yamazaki?” Maybe rearranging the question will help.

“Uhm…” Makoto can hear a door opening and closing “What I feel…” Rin’s voice sounds with an echo. Makoto knows Rin well enough to know the redhead just locked himself in the bathroom to prevent Yamazaki from hearing. The brunette smiles at the thought.

“I feel like I belong with him” Rin says and the calmness and happiness is easily recognizable on his voice “I feel like everything it’s going according to plan, like it’s supposed to be. It’s like—“

His friend stops talking for a moment and Makoto can swear he can hear Rin silently sniffing through the phone.

“It’s like everything is perfect.”

Perfect.

The word travels around his head slowly, expanding like waves on warm water in the steamy bath after a hard day of work and stress.

Perfect.

That word would define Haru, again, perfectly.

“Of course,” Rin continues talking “I know Sousuke isn’t perfect, neither am I, but still… I feel like he is, you know what I mean? Not everyone would accept a long distance relationship and—“

Once again, Rin stops talking and he softly sobs. It fills Makoto with a weird feeling, it’s warm and pleasant.

“Rin…”

“Fuck, Makoto.”

Makoto immediately sits up, worried. Maybe he touched a sore spot without thinking.

“Rin, are you—“

“I’m not crying.”

Makoto has to cover his mouth with the free hand to block a laugh. This isn’t the moment for laughter.

“I…” the redhead’s voice is heard “I love him so much, Makoto.”

The brunette smiles softly at the confession.

“I know, Rin.”

“Makoto, promise me something” Rin says between sniffs that Makoto is cordial enough to ignore “Promise me that if you ever, **ever** , feel something like this you’re gonna pursue it.”

The warmth that had invaded Makoto’s body suddenly disappears as if it never existed.

“Rin, you know I can’t—“

“Promise me.”

Rin is being irrational, is what Makoto thinks. He can’t just go and promise such thing when it’s dangerous out there. He can’t promise such a thing because that would be selfish of him, and he would never forgive himself.

“I won’t do that, Rin.” His voice is clear and final, hoping that it gets through Rin’s thick and stubborn skull.

“Tch.” is everything Rin has to offer as a reply. Makoto is about to keep pressing on the issue but the doorbell interrupts him.

“I gotta go, Rin.”

“Yeah, bye.”

They hang up with the push of a button. Usually Makoto feels much better after talking with Rin, but this time it’s very different. The last part of the conversation left a sour after taste in his mouth. With a low grunt Makoto gets up from the bed and walks to the front door, wondering who it could be at this hour.

“Who is it?” he asks without opening the door and resting his forehead on the hard wood.

“It’s me. Haru.”

Oh, fuck.

  
  


It’s already late, around 6:55 PM, so the chilly air is to be expected with autumn just around the corner. But Makoto is sure his skin isn’t shuddering because of the cold. The silence is only broken by their steps on the concrete and by the crickets who are singing rapidly, signaling that the night will only get colder with time.

It feels a little weird. Walking besides Haruka and not talking, but Makoto sincerely doesn’t feel like talking right now. When his neighbor identified himself at the front door, the brunette felt like crying.

Of course he knew that eventually he would see Haruka again, they are neighbors after all, but he didn’t know it would be so soon. Much less with them being alone.

_“Promise me.”_

Rin’s voice decides right now it’s the perfect moment to meddle where it’s not wanted. Makoto slightly shakes the thought out of his head.

“I have an oncoming art exhibition, in a few days.” Haru says, surprising Makoto. Maybe even Haruka is feeling weird with the silence.

“Really? Is that what the previous canvas was for?” He at least should engage into a decent conversation.

“Yes.”  

And then silence. Makoto has always thought he was good with words. Sure, he sometimes gets nervous when he has to talk in front of a big group of people, but he somehow always manages to survive it. But now he feels so out of place.

It makes total sense, nonetheless, because he, unlike Rin and Yamazaki with each other, doesn’t belong at Haru’s side.

“Want to come?” Haruka asks.

“To the art exhibition?” His companion doesn’t say anything, surely expecting an answer.

Maybe going to said art exhibition is a bad idea, taking into consideration that Makoto should stop having this feelings towards the artist and spending long periods of time with him doesn’t sound like the best course of action for that.

But then again, he can’t just go and ignore Haru completely; it wouldn’t be fair to the young man, he isn’t to blame for Makoto’s emotions and feelings. Besides, if Haruka decided to invite him, it means he wants him there.

“Yeah, sure,” he answers “I’ll go. Even though I won’t be able to see your painting…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Haru’s voice is just a whisper “I want you there.”

Makoto thinks Haruka isn’t fair. At all. And should stop.

“Rin must be very happy.” The brunette tries to change the conversation to something less dangerous “You finally accepting to race him.”

His companion doesn’t respond, maybe because he doesn’t like the sudden change of subject. It hurts Makoto a bit, but it must be like this to prevent things from going further.

It’s going to be painful, wanting to continue to be friends with Haruka while having to subdue his feelings of love. But he simply can’t imagine getting separated from the artist, the sole idea of being apart from him makes his body ache in coldness as if he had stood under an icy rain in the middle of December with no protection over him but only the dark, thick and tormented clouds. And yet, at the same time, it also hurts to be near his neighbor because Makoto knows they aren’t meant to be. It’s like being under the sun, it’s warm when it kisses the skin and it brings joy and happiness to the heart, but you can’t reach it because it’s so far away and, if you do reach it, it’ll burn your hands because you aren’t supposed to touch such celestial being.

It’s funny how love works.

If this thing that Makoto is experimenting can even be called love.

Is it even possible to fall in love like this? Did Haruka do something remarkable for him gain such an attraction to this person? Not that Makoto can remember. In fact, they’ve just met what? Six days ago? Hold on, just **six days**?

His hands suddenly feel sweaty and a hard knot ni his throat appears out of nowhere. The almost silent steps coming from Haruka the only thing he can hear, as a subtle reminder of the other’s presence and existence. It’s been just six days since the fatidic day he met Haru in the hallway in front of his apartment and Makoto already feels so deep and enamored, it doesn’t even feel real or even justified.

What does he even know about Haru?

He knows that Haru has an unhealthy habit of eating way too much mackerel, spends a lot of time on the bathtub, is an artist and apparently he’s good at it and has received multiple offers for exhibitions, one time he wore a girl bathing suit in order to protect Nagisa when they were kids, and recently acquired a taste for American Jazz music just like Makoto.

A soft smile creeps on the brunette’s lips. Maybe Haruka is interested in jazz music because of him, and the thought of it brings kind of jolly feeling inside his heart.

But aside from that, Makoto doesn’t really know anything about his neighbor. Haru could be the son of a multimillionaire CEO for all he knows. What if Haru is actually running away from his responsibilities as the heir of a huge company? What if Haruka is the son of a yakuza leader who is looking tirelessly for him? **What if the yakuza discovers Makoto is in love with Haruka and decides to kill him?**

Calm down, Makoto, such things only happen in movies. Probably.

Recovering his line of thought, the green-eyed man concludes he doesn’t know anything but he surprises himself wanting to know everything there is about Haru. When is his birthday? What is his favorite season? Does he prefer salty or sweet? What artistic technique is he better at? Such simple questions that should have simple answers but Makoto isn’t brave enough to ask.  

It’s weird to think how in these past days Makoto had felt as if he knew Haru the best, like he understands the artist’s needs. Something like… a connection? Like a link was promptly made between them. He feels at ease with Haru at his side, his presence bringing a calming sensation to the atmosphere. Like a cold shower after a long day under the hot summer sun; removing the sweaty and sticky sensation from the skin to leave a clean and refreshing feeling like a new breath.

But he should know that something like a bond between him and Haru is nonexistent; it doesn’t matter how much it feels like it. After all, it’s been just six days they met. Getting to know Haruka would obviously require a lot of time, mainly because said man is as quiet as a light rain with no thunders, drops softly hitting the glass on the window; just a distant noise that conveys comfort in a weird way.

It’s weird because Makoto doesn’t like silence. For him, silence means unknown and solitude. Silence means he’s alone with no one else on the room. An empty room, containing only him with his thoughts. But, for some reason, Haru doesn’t feel like that.

Even if said man is the most silent person Makoto has ever met, Haruka’s presence is so big it’s impossible to not notice him. All of Haru’s movements are silent, surely full of grace and elegance because of it, and yet Makoto feels like he can sense every single wave coming from the artist’s muscles. That’s precisely why and how he noticed Haru in the first place that day when they met.

Makoto didn’t really hear him coming up the stairs, not even walking towards him. Haruka isn’t loud enough to attract much attention when people aren’t paying any. But somehow Makoto was able to sense him in a way, and it was different from his other neighbors.

Haruka is different.

And he’s perfect like that.

“Rei and Nagisa are coming.”

Haru’s perfect voice interrupts the silent atmosphere, bringing Makoto back.

“Coming? To the pool?” Makoto asks.

“Yes, Nagisa wanted to come”

“Do they swim?”

“Nagisa does. Water doesn’t like Rei enough so he sinks if he tries anything else but the butterfly stroke”

Makoto knows it’s a weird way to talk about water, but it sounds so Haruka-ish he can’t deny it or try to go against the sentence. Instead of that, Makoto chuckles.

“Maybe you could give him some advice for that”

“I tried, but he’s a lost cause” Haru says with a sigh “All he can do now it’s keep practicing and trying”

Being honest, Makoto can’t think of Haruka as “teacher”. In fact, Makoto can almost be sure that Haru must suck as a swimming teacher, talking about “how the water feels” and “accept the water”. Those kinds of things sounds like something the artist would say or so Makoto thinks.

When the small hand is about to reach the nineteenth hour of the day, Haru and Makoto arrive to the pool. The moment they enter the building, the chlorine scent invades the brunette’s nose. It’s kind of burning in that nostalgic way, reminding of old days filled with laughs and ridiculous jokes at the poolside.

“Makoto!” his name being called gathers his thoughts to the present. It’s Rin who seems to be walking towards them. There is three pair of steps, so Yamazaki and maybe Gou are with him.

“Hello, Makoto-senpai, Nanase.”

Ah, there she is.

“I didn’t know you would come, Gou-chan.” Makoto replies to her.

“Ah! So soon and you want to fight already!” Her voice is annoyed and Makoto simply chuckles.

“So you two came here together.” The redhead says and Makoto can clearly identify the teasing smile on the voice, like he has won something.

Makoto wants to say something against Rin, but is interrupted by another voice who also calls his name, and Haru’s too.

“Haru-chan, Mako-chan!” It’s a merry and joyful voice, kind of childish and full of energy like a thousand suns in a vast galaxy. Makoto smiles as he recognizes said voice and hears fast steps running towards him.

“Nagisa!” Haru complains and moves a little. Noises of clothes ruffling and a little struggle. Did Nagisa hug Haruka hard without warning?

“Oh?!” Nagisa gasps at something, “Are you Mako-chan’s friends?” Ah, he’s talking to Rin and the others.

“Mako-chan?” Rin questions, “Are you seriously talking about Makoto?” His voice sounds constricted, maybe trying to not laugh.

“He’s a friend, so I shall call him that!” The younger man seems proud of his conclusion.

“Good evening,” the determined, analytical voice that always accompanies Nagisa is heard next, “My name is Ryuugazaki Rei, and this is Hazuki Nagisa.”

“We are a couple!” Nagisa announces with a big voice, again proud of it.

“Really?” Gou asks, excited, and she claps, “Yamazaki-kun and my older brother are too.”

“Oh, I’m glad!” Nagisa speaks again, “Like that your boyfriend can see your pretty red hair.”

Rin doesn’t say a thing but from Yamazaki’s drowned chuckle, Makoto can guess his friend is getting embarrassed and red-faced by the second.

“I’m Matsuoka Rin.” The redhead finally speaks after clearing his throat.

“Yamazaki Sousuke.” the tall man introduces himself.

“And I’m Matsuoka Kou.”

It’s weird to feel all these people together, Makoto thinks. It feels like two different worlds finally meeting after days of dancing around each other. But the brunette can’t help it when a smile creeps to his lips, filling him with a warm sensation in his heart, beating calmly. It’s as if this day of reunion was meant to happen eventually; maybe it was from the moment he shook hands with Haruka in that hallway.

“So I heard you’re having a race with Haru-chan, RinRin?” Nagisa asks and Makoto has to use all of his self-control to not laugh, he can clearly hear Yamazaki is also trying his hardest.

“RinRin?!” The newly baptized’s voice gets high-pitched at the end of his scream. “Don’t go calling people you barely know ridiculous names!”

“But, RinRin,” by his part, the other sounds whiny “You’re Mako-chan’s friend and therefore are now my friend, so—“

“Ok, ok! Stop! Let’s just go!” He storms off, the others following him.

This time, a soft and almost mute breath comes to Makoto’s right ear. He could identify such noise anywhere even if has just heard it once. It’s Haru’s silent way of laughing.

“Are you having fun, Haru?” He dares to ask in a whisper, as if he wants their conversation to be a secret from the world. Well, maybe he wants it to be a secret.

“Nagisa used his trick on Matsuoka.” Haru says instead of answering the question in point, this making Makoto smile wider. Haruka doesn’t like to talk about his feelings.

“His trick?” He starts to walk when hears Haru’s footsteps.

“Nagisa’s eyes are pretty big and kind of shine a lot?” the last part is said on a question, as if explaining Nagisa’s nature is a hard thing to do. A mystery of life. “Maybe he doesn’t realize it, but his eyes are really convincing”

Makoto can sense the subtle change in Haruka’s voice. It’s warm and gentle but it’s so hidden that it’s difficult to catch it. He doesn’t want to brag, but Makoto has always been good at “sensing” things from others’ voices. And he can perfectly sense Haru’s affection for his friends when he talks about them.

He wonders if Haruka talks about him to them with that same affection.

Stop, Makoto.

“Makoto, Nanase! Don’t be so slow!” Rin hurries them up as they approach the pool’s door “You two still need to get changed and shower.”

“Wait, me?” Surprised, Makoto can’t help but squeal the question. “You want me to swim?!”, he really wasn’t expecting that.

“Of course!” Rin says with a tired voice “It’s been a while since last time we swam together. Let’s do it.”

 

* * *

 

Haru’s eyes widen the moment Matsuoka calls Makoto to swim with him. Makoto swims? He didn’t know about it. How come Makoto never mentioned?

His blue eyes wander to the brunette next to him. Makoto looks flustered and surprised, he really didn’t expect Matsuoka to ask him that. But there’s something else, something that Haru can’t completely read right now but it makes him feel uncomfortable.

“You swim, Mako-chan?!” The blond looks surprised and immediately looks at Haru with a big smile then returns his pink eyes to the green ones, “I didn’t know! Haru never mentioned it!”

“We never talked about it…” the brunette says with an apologetic smile, “I didn’t bring any swimsuit or anything, Rin…”

“Yeah, I thought so!” The redhead says but his smile never stops, “That’s why I asked Sousuke to bring another pair of jammers!”

It seems Rin won’t let this go easily. Makoto sighs heavily – Haru feels something constricting in his chest once again – and with a smile he nods in defeat.

“Alright, Rin. Let’s go to the locker room.” Makoto says.

“I’ll go sit on the terrace.” Kou announces, pointing to the designated door for that, “I’ll meet with you guys later!”

The group of men start walking towards the locker room. Matsuoka and Yamazaki talking between them, and Rei and Nagisa doing the same, the only two who are completely silent are Makoto and Haru. The dark-haired man with blue-ocean eyes can’t get rid of the wary sensation in his chest. Something is up and he can’t guess what is, but he’s pretty sure it’s something about the brown-haired man next to him. Makoto has been full of mystery as of lately and it kind of confuses Haruka; the only thing Haru can think of is to keep acting normal with Makoto, and wait for the brunette to make the first move.

Makoto will talk to him whenever he’s ready, right?

“Haru-chan, I’m so excited to swim with you again! It’s been a while!” The excitement is visibly obvious in Nagisa’s eyes. “And guess what? Rei-chan’s swimming is getting better!”

“Is that so?” Haru asks, looking at Rei.

“Yes, it is!” Rei looks so proud of himself, poofing his chest and all. It makes Haru smile a little.

“I’m looking forward to it, Rei.”

Haru can see the slight red color on Rei’s face. The three of them – Nagisa, Rei and Haru – haven’t swum together in a long time because of their busy lives – college can be so hard sometimes –. But when they were in high school, the trio would often go to the public pool to have a nice time and try to teach Rei how to swim. One day, Rei confessed he admires the way Haruka swims. The artist can’t completely understand how someone could admire something so simple about him; sure, he knows he’s good at swimming, but he also thinks it’s not something to be admired for.

They arrive at the locker room. It’s kind of late in the evening, so the place is pretty much empty and this is something Haru is very thankful for.

“Is there a lot of people?” Makoto asks him in a whisper, almost imperceptible.

“No, just us and two other guys,” Haru answers after giving the room a quick look, “But they are leaving already.”

Another sigh comes out of Makoto, but this one looks full of relief. What is going on?

“Oi, get on with it already!” Matsuoka calls them out while taking off his t-shirt and undoing his belt. Yamazaki is next to him, doing the same.

Haru looks away, to his friends Rei and Nagisa. The blond is already on his briefs, but Rei – modest as ever – is gone to one of the cubicles to change there.

“RinRin! Why don’t you have any hair down there?!” Nagisa yells suddenly and Makoto jerks a little for it. Haru is quick to grab him by the arm and Makoto mouths a silent thanks.

“Don’t call me that!” Matsuoka’s face is as red as his hair and his eyes are practically burning Nagisa down. Sadly for the swimmer, Nagisa is immune to that kind of thing. “And don’t yell about it! We pro-swimmers shave and that’s it! You don’t have to make a big deal about it!”

Nagisa, in all his nakedness, gets closer to Matsuoka and, against the swimmer’s wishes, keeps yelling about it. Haru sighs contentedly. The dark-haired man had forgotten how much light Nagisa can bring to a situation.

After taking off his shirt, Haru realizes Makoto still has all his clothes on.

“Is something wrong?” He asks the taller man in an undertone, glad that Nagisa and the others are busy.

“No, nothing is wrong.” Makoto shakes his head, but Haru can see how hard the brunette is holding the handle of his cane.

The dark-haired man gets closer to Makoto and puts one of his hands over Makoto’s, who once again jerks a little at the sudden touch.

“Everything is ok.” Haru says with a whispery voice.

“Yes,” Makoto agrees on a heavy breath, “Everything is ok.”

“Tachibana,” another deep voice disturbs their moment and Haru immediately removes his hand. It’s Yamazaki, already changed of his clothes, holding a black pair of jammers in one hand. “Here, I hope they fit well.”

“Yeah, thanks.” The brunette grabs them and with a nod Yamazaki goes back to Matsuoka, who is still being interjected with tons of questions from Nagisa.

Finally, Makoto starts to undress and Haru looks away, turning his back to the other man.

“We are heading to the showers, Makoto, Nanase.” The redhead says with a loud voice that echoes through the walls. Rei is with them now.

“Ah, yeah! We are coming next!” Makoto replies.

The room gets quiet the moment they are alone. Makoto is obviously nervous about something, him being serious and non-talkative is enough proof for that. But then again, why is Matsuoka acting as if it’s nothing? Maybe this feeling in his chest is a true lovers’ thing? Or maybe Matsuoka does know something but decides to feign ignorance for the moment.

At any case, and as previously established, Haru can’t do nothing about it unless Makoto himself decides to say something.

“I’m ready, Haru. How about you?” The brunette’s voice interrupts his inner monologue.

“Me too.” He replies with a pull of his swimsuit and everything is in place. After packing his stuff on his bag, he turns around to see Makoto’s belonging neatly folded over the bench in front of him. “Do you want to put your stuff on my bag?” the dark-haired man asks him.

“Ah! Sure. Thanks.” He picks up the clothes and offers them to Haru, who grabs them and puts them on the bag. “We better hurry up before Rin starts yelling at us.” Makoto finishes with a smile.

A few minutes later, the whole group is standing next to the pool. The two other guys from before are swimming in the last two lines, so they won’t be a bother for them. Haruka quickly jumps into the water without waiting for anyone.

The fresh water receives him without hesitation. His whole body is being embraced by the cool sensation and the tingly feeling of the bubbles caresses his skin. In the far distance, he can hear Matsuoka yelling at him for not waiting, but none of that matter right now because all he wants is to feel the nothingness holding him.

When he finally rises to get some air in his lungs, Nagisa’s laugh invades the place. He’s saying something about Haru being personally connected to water and how impossible it’s to keep them apart that long; he even dares to call water and Haru “true destined lovers”, which brings even more laughs from the blond.

“Nanase! Come here so we can be done with this!” Matsuoka calls him again, putting on the cap and the goggles, pulling the latter with a snap behind his head that probably hurts. Haruka complies and returns to the starting point, getting out of the pool with a jump.

“What do you swim?” The redhead asks him with a cocky smile and his hands at the hips, “I swim everything, so you can choose whatever you want.”

“I only swim free.” He says and Nagisa snickers behind him.

“Then it’ll be free.”

Yamazaki is the one marking the time, so when Haruka and Matsuoka finally get in their place, he orders them to be ready.

It’s been since forever since the last time Haruka was in a race, not since he was on that swimming club back in middle elementary school. Being in races is a pain in the ass for him. He wins the races and sometimes the people he raced with get pissed about it and it’s really annoying. A vague memory of a kid telling Haru is his fault he can’t swim anymore pesters him at the back of his head. He remembers feeling guilty about it because he really doesn’t like the idea of people quitting something they enjoy so much because of him.

“Ready?”

Bending over his knees, Haruka allows his eyes to take a peek at Matsuoka next to him. Haru wonders if Matsuoka is the kind of guy who would get angry for losing. He sure hopes this isn’t the case. Blue eyes this time turn the other way, seeing his friends at the side of the pool. Nagisa and Rei are secretly holding hands, though it’s really just their the pinky fingers linked. To their side is Makoto with a soft smile, and Haruka has to ask himself if Makoto is getting bored with all this.

After this race, Haruka will swim with Makoto and that idea makes his heart beat in excitement.

“Go!”

Yamazaki shouts and soon Haru is jumping directly to the water.

The familiar feeling coming from the water wraps around him in a second. It’s welcoming and desired, even meant to be. But it’s almost immediately interrupted with something else.

It doesn’t feel pleasant. At all. It makes his heart bump in a different way and Haru would really like it to stop. Even the water feels different, it feels agitated and it makes him angry and annoyed.

At his side, he senses something coming after him, until that “something” passes and leaves him behind. It’s Matsuoka, and he feels like a hot and burning torpedo without control or purpose. It makes Haru even angrier.

The dark-haired man accelerates in order to reach Matsuoka’s velocity. The distance is shortened the moment they do the flip for the last lap.

Between breaths he can hear Nagisa and Rei yelling for him, while Yamazaki and Kou are doing the same but for Matsuoka. He doesn’t like the idea of losing to Matsuoka. He really doesn’t want it to happen and it annoys him.

Haruka touches the wall and he already knows the result.

“Rin wins!” Yamazaki shouts with a smile, while Kou screams in excitement for the winner.

“Yes!” Matsuoka throws his fist in the air in celebration. By his part, Haru removes the goggles and the cap.

His breath is heavy and his whole body is still tingling uncomfortably, with his heart jumping around with no permission. He hops out of the pool and a splash behind makes him realize Matsuoka is also out of the pool.

A wet hand slaps him by the shoulder and stays there.

“That was amazing, Nanase!” The redhead is also breathing with difficulty. “No hard feelings, right? I mean,” his grin is full of cockiness “I’m the pro here, it was kind of obvious what would happen.”

Another pair of voices calls for his attention, calling him “Haruka-senpai” and “Haru-chan”.

“Your form was as beautiful as ever, Haruka-senpai!” Rei’s eyes are shimmering, and so are Nagisa’s.

“Haru-chan, I’m all pumped up! Let’s swim, let’s swim!” The blond grabs his hand and pulls him to the pool.

Haru silently smiles, thankful of Nagisa for taking him away from Matsuoka and his weird agitated energy. But then the redhead’s voice distracts him when he starts talking to Makoto.

“Are you ready?” Matsuoka asks Makoto, his voice is neutral and almost silent.

“Yes.” Is what Haru hears from Makoto, seconds before being thrown to the water by Nagisa.

Moments later Haru can feel the water being disturbed multiple times from people entering the liquid body. First is Nagisa, with loud and expansive waves. Next is Rei, his entrance is clean and calculated with precision. After that is Yamazaki, it also feels precise but with more force.

Where are Matsuoka and Makoto?

When Haru is about to go to the surface, a strong wave touches his body. It’s confusing and strange. That was way too strong to be Matsuoka.

His lungs finally breathe the chlorine-scented air when he reaches the surface. From his place he can see Makoto and Matsuoka together in the water and close to the border of the pool. Haruka can’t hear anything but Matsuoka’s lips are moving and Makoto is simply nodding. Is Matsuoka telling Makoto something? Why does it look so secretive? It’s then that the dark-haired man spots Makoto’s hands grasping the redhead’s shoulders tightly, while the latter’s hands are on the brunette’s forearms.

What is happening?

He starts to get closer, slowly walking in their direction and focusing his whole attention to what the professional swimmer is saying.

“It’s ok, Makoto, you don’t have to—“

His attention is broken when Nagisa hugs him from behind, warping his arms around his neck.

“Carry me, Haru-chan!” the blond orders with a smile.

“Nagisa, you said you wanted to swim!” Rei argues “Leave Haruka-senpai alone”

Ignoring his friends’ quarrel, Haruka turns his head towards Matsuoka and Makoto, but the moment is shattered because now Matsuoka is staring at his blue eyes. Neither Makoto nor Matsuoka are holding each other anymore.

“So, Nanase” Matsuoka’s smile is back as if he wasn’t doing something secret just seconds ago “You said you didn’t swim in form since that swim club?”

The redhead approaches Haru, who still has Nagisa clinging to him, and the dark-haired man notices how close is Makoto of Matsuoka. That’s expected, right? At the moment the swimmer is the closest person, in terms of relationship, to Makoto.

“Makoto used to swim the backstroke.” Matsuoka shares with a smile, looking for a moment to his mentioned friend, who jerks a little at the remark.

“I’m not that good.” Makoto says smiling.

“Oh, Rin-chan!” Nagisa claims suddenly next to Haru’s right ear, as if he wants to announce his existence so people don’t forget.

“Don’t call me Rin-chan!” His face is red once again.

“But you said to not call you RinRin, that’s why now it’s Rin-chan!” Nagisa’s logic is heard.

“That’s not—“

“You should teach Rei-chan some swimming stuff!” The blond interrupts and finally gets down from Haru “Haru-chan has already done everything he can do, maybe you can do a little more!”

Without waiting for an answer, Nagisa grabs Matsuoka by the arm and pulls him away, being closely followed by Rei who is apologizing on his boyfriend’s behalf. Yamazaki gets near them, interested on what’s going on.

“Haru.”

A soft voice calls him in the middle of the noise. The voice sounds normal but Haru can distinguish the slight trembling. Makoto is standing in front of him, not moving and his green eyes closed.

“Yes?” Haruka replies almost as quietly as Makoto called.

“Nothing, just making sure you are here.” He gives Haru another smile and somehow it hurts the dark-haired man.

Blue eyes divert momentarily to the side, finding Matsuoka helping Rei stay afloat while Nagisa is loudly laughing, and Yamazaki behind the redhead, saying something to his boyfriend’s ear. Haruka looks at Makoto once again, and moves away a little. The brunette follows him without question.

It all makes sense now.

Bringing all of his courage to the table, Haruka lifts one of his hands to grab Makoto by the wrist. The taller man trembles at the touch and it makes Haru’s heart to jump.

“I’m here.” Haru says and for some reason that simple affirmation makes Makoto sigh deeply.

“I know.” Makoto replies and this time the smile looks more honest.

Haru starts to walk backwards, to where the water is deeper, pulling the brunette with him. Makoto shows a little resistance, but complies when the dark-haired assures him he’s with him. As they walk, Haru can feel Makoto’s pulse accelerating on his wrist. Another peek at Matsuoka. He’s still busy with Rei.

The water is now at the base of Haru’s chin, but only around Makoto’s neck. This is the place.

“Makoto,” this time it’s Haru who calls the other. Makoto replies silently with a movement of his hand, grabbing Haru by the forearm of his free arm, “I’m here.”

“I know.” It’s only a whisper coming from Makoto’s lips.

Haru asks himself if Makoto’s heart is as jumpy and loud as his own. One last peek at Matsuoka. He’s now nagging Yamazaki about something.

 

* * *

 

His heart is yelling in fear.

He can clearly hear Rin nagging Yamazaki about how he shouldn’t move his arm that much when swimming. Nagisa and Rei are on their own business, something about Rei slow progress in swimming.

But all of that is gagged whenever Haruka’s voice appears.

“Makoto,” the artist’s voice says his name in a whisper and is inviting, “I’m here.” He finishes.

“I know.” it’s Makoto’s turn to reply.

And he really knows. Haru is there, and he’s grabbing him by the wrist, pulling him deeper into the water. And Makoto is scared because he doesn’t know what’s coming next and that’s why he holds the other man by the forearm.

All around him is busy. His nose is filled with chlorine, not able to perceive Rin’s or even Haru’s scent. His body is covered by the chill water, numbing his skin with the perpetual caresses it receives. His ears echo in the vast and wide room they are in, but everything sounds as mere mumblings because of the water surrounding them.

The only thing that feels real right now is Haru’s hand over him and his own hand over Haru.

“Haru?” He calls the other man, even if he knows he’s not alone.

“I’m here,” Haru tells him and the waves coming from his body getting closer makes Makoto jump a little. “Ready?” He asks.

Ready? Ready for what? Makoto asks himself but the answer comes soon enough when Haru’s other hand places itself on his shoulder.

Slowly, Haru begins to push him down.

“I’m here.” Haru says.

“I know.” Makoto answers.

He holds his breath when feeling the water covering his chin.

The water covers him completely. It’s kind of cold on his face and his ears are now full of water. He wouldn’t be able to make up from down if it isn’t for his feet well planted on the pool’s floor.

He can’t hear anything. He can’t smell anything.

He can’t breathe.

It’s suffocating, and it’s tiring, and he really wants to go away.

The hand on his shoulder starts moving up, never breaking contact while moving up his neck to finally rest on his cheek. Soon the other hand is resting on his other cheek.

_“Haru is here”_

A voice inside his head remembers and now his body is trembling.

 

* * *

 

Makoto is trembling but he doesn’t look scared anymore, or at least not in the same level as before. The brunette grabs him by the wrists and Haru has a flashback.

Those green eyes are still closed and Haruka really wants to see them.

Taking his time, Haru gets his head closer to Makoto’s, never closing the blue orbs he was born with until his forehead touches Makoto’s.

Makoto trembles again.

 

* * *

 

Why is Haru so close?

Why is Haru doing this?

His whole being is trembling and he isn’t sure if it’s because he’s scared, or because of the cold water or because of something else.

Little bubbles touch his face. Haru must want something from him, but what?

The warm contact on his forehead disappears the next second.

Makoto opens his eyes.

 

* * *

 

There they are.

The green gems that had the honor to belong to Makoto. They look greener right now, and they shimmer with the artificial light coming from the sides and the bottom of the pool.

The brown hair is moving by its own thanks to the water and it makes Makoto looks like floating in empty space.

He bites his lips.

 

* * *

 

His hands slowly go down Haru’s arm to rest on his biceps.

Haru’s hands stay on his cheeks, but out of nowhere he feels something softly caressing his lips. It’s Haru’s right thumb.

A shudder coming from his parted lips covers his whole body.

It’s interrupted when Makoto feels movement coming from Haru. It’s then that he realizes he no longer has air on his lungs.

Makoto moves upwards and takes a deep breath when his face is out of the water. He can hear Haruka also breathing heavily.

Haru’s hands are still over his face.

“I’m here.” That addictive voice of his says between pants.

“I know.” Makoto replies with gasps of his own.

“Forever.”

The sole word makes Makoto’s breath tremble along with his body.

“I know.” He replies.

 

* * *

 

But does Makoto really know?

Does Makoto really understand how true his promise is?

He slowly removes both hands from Makoto.

He really needs to work harder for Makoto.

  
  


It’s 9 PM when he and Makoto are on the hallway they share in front of their apartments, saying their farewells.

“It was really fun,” Makoto says before opening the door to his place “Let’s do it again some time.”

The moment Haruka enters his own place, he quickly walks to his room, directly to a wall with a piece of paper hanging from it. It’s a calendar.

A week has passed.

Just another week to make Makoto fall in love with him.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna thank both [WaterbearCosmonaut](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterbearCosmonaut/pseuds/WaterbearCosmonaut) and [TheTachibanana](https://twitter.com/TheTachibanana) for beta'ing once again.
> 
> Guratami did some more [fanart!](http://guramitami.tumblr.com/post/113365801219/im-here-i-know-color-me-in-love) all this face touching is getting to our heads!!
> 
> If you ever make some fanwork for this fic, please feel free to send me a comment!

He doesn’t know if he should believe him.

But, at the end of the day, he really wants to believe everything that those soft lips and addictive voice tells him. At what moment did he become so paranoid? At what moment did he become so unsure of everything?

He feels as if he is walking over ice. So unsafe, unsure, and not really knowing wether he should keep walking. He knows what could happen if he takes a careless step; he could drown on the icy cold water with no hope for escape because there’s no one there to help him. But, at the same time, walking to the other side of the ice, reaching the safety of the shore, looks so tempting. What could he find on the other side?

Probably nothing.

This hope filling his heart is probably just the love inside his mind playing dirty tricks on him. How cruel one’s mind can be.

_“Forever.”_

The sweet promise echoes inside his head. It’s soft and it brings such comfort to his whole body. It feels like a new breath entering his lungs, waking up his body after a long and cold slumber.

He truly wants to believe such a promise.

_“Forever.”_

Be there, forever, with a man guilty of falling in love with someone he isn’t destined to be with. With a man whose heart decided to go against destiny and life. Keep that promise for this man who doesn’t deserve it but selfishly wants to stay forever with the man on the other side of the wall, with his soft lips and almond-shaped eyes.

Oh, how cruel life is sometimes.

Life doesn’t care about this man’s selfish desires and yearnings. As far as life is concerned, this man is just a little speck of dust in an immense universe of links and connections between destined people.

He is linked to no one, that’s his destiny and he accepts it, even if his heart ventures to hope for something else.

And so, accepting this, he makes peace with his life and destiny.

_“Forever.”_

He’ll stay forever, not like his heart longs for, but he’ll stay anyways. He’ll offer his smiles, his voice and his—

His—

Friendship.

Because – even if it hurts, even if it feels wrong and hopeless – a friendship is something to value in life, something to appreciate, to take care of and treasure.

And he, Makoto, wants to treasure Haruka with all his might.

A distant musical tone makes him open his eyes. He knows that tone, it’s happy and excited; it reflects energy and causes his heartbeat to follow the rhythm. He stands up from his bed, walking to the desk where he put the cellphone minutes before, and picks up the call.

“Hello, Gou-chan,” Makoto answers, a yawn escaping at the end of the sentence.

“Makoto-senpai, sorry, I know it’s late,” Her voice sounds worried and whispery, this brings Makoto’s senses back in a second, “But I need to talk to you.”

“What is it, Gou-chan?” He asks and a groan is heard at the other side of the line, surely because of the name. “Is something wrong?” He insists.

“No, not really.” Her voice is still a whisper. Maybe she doesn’t want to be heard, wherever she is.

Talking about being heard, Makoto makes his way out of the bedroom and locks himself in the bathroom. It’s kind of late at night – around 11 PM – and his neighbor is probably sleeping. He sits on the toilet and focuses his full attention to the young woman on the phone.

“You see,” She continues, “I… I was wondering, maybe I’m overstepping here, but…” Her voice is full of nerves and it’s making Makoto feel uneasy himself. “Well, at the pool…”

The brunette’s skin tingles at the mention of the place. Memories of cool hands over his cheeks and his lips being caressed are like a ghost’s touch.

“Are…” Gou keeps talking “Are you… is…” A sigh can be heard. “Are you and Nanase going out?”

Makoto doesn’t reply because his heart stops beating. He can hear the faint ruffling of clothes on Gou’s end, the dripping of the faucet he has yet to fix, and the constant ring of silence. Maybe the silence is too much and too deep, because Gou starts talking again.

“I mean—! I know—I know it isn’t any of my business, but—“ She’s clearly fretting. Makoto can almost imagine her, breaking out a cold sweat and trying to gulp down her nerves. “But it’s just that you two—“

“No.”

Makoto responds without waiting for the woman to finish her words. The answer feels heavy and hot like a knife deep in his throat.

“No, we aren’t.” He says again.

“Oh.” Is what Gou replies to his serious and definite voice, “I see.”

Silence fills the room once again. Cold and constrictive silence that travels down his lungs and heart, silence that makes him feel like drowning in solitude even if he knows perfectly well Gou is on the other side of the line hearing everything.

“Makoto-senpai,” The woman calls to him, “Is something wrong?”

Wrong? A lot of things are wrong. His love for Haruka, for example, his undying desire to be with the artist, and to steal away his attention just for him. But none of this matters because all of this is wrong and as such should not be taken into consideration.

“No, Gou-chan.” He says with that smile he hasn’t used in a while, that fake smile he used to wear to trick everyone to make them think that everything was alright when it wasn’t. He knows it’s useless because the girl can’t even see him right now.

“Everything is okay, why are you asking?” He even laughs a bit at the end to make light of the situation.

“You’ve been kind of off lately, Makoto-senpai. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” She’s using her authoritative voice. Sometimes Makoto thinks it’s a Matsuoka thing because Rin often makes use of that same tone. “And maybe isn’t my place to pry, but I’m worried about you.”

A sincere smile twists his lips this time. He passes his free hand over his closed eyes and a sigh escapes his mouth.

“I’m sorry, Gou-chan.” Makoto apologizes, although he’s not really sure for what for. Is he apologizing for making her worry, for not saying anything, for lying?

“Ok.” She says but Makoto is sure she’s unconvinced, “So, if you and Nanase aren’t dating, why do you guys look so close? I was kind of surprised back there.”

Makoto laughs a little before responding, “Close? Don’t be ridiculous. We were just swimming.”

“My older brother looked surprised too.”

Makoto's heart nearly leaps into his throat before settling back down into his chest, resolving to beat against his ribs.

“Rin?” He asks, surprised that his voice made it past the big knot in his throat, “Surprised?”

“Yeah! When you and Nanase went underwater, Rin was looking for you two. He didn’t say anything or move from where he was with the other guys, but I could see how antsy he got.”

His heart continues to beat so fast it begins to hurt, or maybe it’s just the anxiety building up inside of him and wanting to explode.

“And when you two finally resurfaced of the water, Rin’s face was so surprised! Like he didn’t believe what he was seeing. And let me tell you, neither I did. I mean—“ She stops talking suddenly, but continues to talk on a whisper, “Nanase had his hands on your face, and you had yours on his arms.”

Now it’s Makoto’s turn to break into a cold sweat. If Gou was able to see all of that, then Rin was able to see it too. He frets his fingers in the air like he wants to grasp something tightly. What if Rin is just as curious and worried about it as Gou is? What if some day Rin starts asking questions? It’s easy to lie to Gou – even if it’s an awful thing to do – but Makoto isn’t so sure about lying to Rin.

What if Rin discovers Makoto is in love with Haruka?

“I—I need to go, Gou-chan.” The brunette says and internally curses when he realizes his voice is trembling.

“Makoto-senpai, but—“

“Sorry, but it’s kind of late, Gou-chan. Bye.” With a final nervous laugh, Makoto hangs up the call.

His body is trembling thoroughly; he can feel his hands failing and his knees shuddering. Leaving the phone on the floor, Makoto passes both hands through his tousled hair. His breath becomes uneven in a matter of seconds and it takes everything to suppress the sudden wave of nausea washing over him.

Is it that obvious? His love for the artist is that obvious? What is he going to do if Rin discovers it? What is he going to do if **Haru** discovers it?

Maybe – and just maybe – his previous idea of staying friends isn’t that great. Maybe Makoto should cut off whatever friendship he has with Haruka. Are they even friends? Does Haru consider him a friend?

_“Forever.”_

They are, right? They are friends. That’s why Haruka invited him to hang out with his friends, right? That’s why Haruka asked him to go to his art exhibition, right? Because Haru wants him there even if he can’t see his piece. Haru wants to spend time with him because they are friends, right?

_“Forever.”_

Makoto closes his eyes and tries to regulate his breathing.

They are friends, no doubt about it. They are friends and it’s ok to be so. They are friends and Makoto really wants to stay that way.

_“Forever.”_

Green eyes open once again.

“I just need to act normal.” He says to no one but himself. “I just need to continue to act normal.”

Why is he feeling like this, anyways? It’s not like Haruka is that extraordinary, is he? He’s just some random guy he met about a week ago in front of his apartment. And yet, Makoto can’t explain why he has this inner desire to be close to Haru. This weird yearning in his hands to touch him again that never disappears.

At the memory of touching thin lips, soft skin and almond-shaped eyes, Makoto closes his eyes once again to pass both hands through his face. The sole idea of doing that again, touching Haruka’s face, make his hands burn in longing. He bites his own thumb, the one that dared to touch the artist’s lips, and it hurts but the yearning doesn’t go away.

Whatever is happening with him, he has to learn to control it.

Makoto stands up and goes to bed. Tomorrow will be a new day.

 

The sun is up and the world awakens along with it. The wind is restless and blows without warning, bringing a chill to uncovered skin. A faint smell of wet soil and earth suffuses the scenery, a reminder of the upcoming colder days of autumn.

Makoto isn’t keen on the cold, that’s why he decides to wear a jacket when going outside his place. He’s expecting to feel the warm kiss of the sun on his face for a little relief, but finds himself disappointed when the kiss never comes.

“Must be cloudy,” He murmurs to himself while locking the door of the apartment, “It’ll probably rain in the evening…” It’s conclusive with the smell of wet soil as proof.

Taking his white and red cane in hand, Makoto begins his day.

It’s barely 6:30 AM so, when he goes down the stairs of the building, it isn’t surprising at all to find the neighborhood still silent and asleep. Only the little tweets of far away birds reach Makoto’s ears for the moment, along with his footsteps and the soft tapping of his cane.

One of the reasons he decided to move to this neighborhood is because the train station is relatively close, so he can easily walk to the station and take the train to college. Slowly his ears are filled with the sounds of an awakening city as he approaches the train station.

People talking, speakers on the roof announcing trains arrivals, and computers and machines beeping every time the crowd passes their ticket through the scanner. After paying his pass, he takes the same train he takes every day, immediately grabbing one of the handles hanging from the ceiling.

It seems the train is kind of packed today, surely full of working people and students. The train starts moving. Makoto keeps his cane close to him to prevent it from hitting someone by mistake. Out of nowhere and after some minutes, he feels someone tapping his shoulder.

“Sir, excuse me?” The voice sounds childish, probably a highschooler, and it’s coming from in front of him.

“Yes, can I help you?” Makoto replies with his customary polite smile he uses whenever some stranger talks to him on the street.

“Sorry to bother you, but you can take my seat if you want.” The highschooler says and Makoto can recognize the smile on that voice.

“Ah, thanks, but I wouldn’t dare.” He keeps smiling, even wider, “My stop is nearby, so it’s no problem to stay standing.”

“No, no, no, I insist.”

This isn’t new, at all. People trying to help him in the street. Makoto knows it’s coming from good intentions, but sometimes it feels unnecessary and exaggerated. He’s just blind, he isn’t dying in the middle of the train, nor does he have a broken leg, he’s not even carrying a baby. So this kind of help can be pretty tiring.

“I insist all the same.” Makoto says with a little laugh, “Thanks, but you can take your seat.”

The highschooler mumbles something along the lines of “If you’re sure…” and Makoto guesses the person takes the seat because they don’t exchange words again.

Minutes later, his stop finally arrives and he gets off the train. The busy noise of the city greets him immediately when he exits the station. Cars being driven, people talking on their phones, a few teenagers laughing at some joke, the city seems to never sleep and it’s always full of busy people.

After a somewhat long walk, Makoto arrives at his alma mater. In college he kind of feels freer than in other places. It’s always full of people and friends, it’s never quiet and he, in fact, loves his classes. It’s also where he’s able to spend more time with Gou.

Speaking of her, he really should apologize for that last call they had. He practically panicked at the thought of Gou discovering his love for Haruka and that’s why he cut the call off so suddenly and rudely. She’s just being his friend and trying to help, she doesn’t deserve such treatment coming from him when she isn’t the one at fault.

Time passes and classes end until it’s Makoto’s free hour. It’s at this hour that he goes to buy something to eat from the cafeteria and sits under the tree with Gou as his companion. When he arrives at the usual tree, he’s surprised when he doesn’t receive Gou’s greeting; maybe the girl isn’t there yet. With a low grunt he sits down to wait for his friend.

Far away, he can hear people talking about various topics. Usually the subjects circle around classes, homework, annoying professors, sometimes movies, and sometimes even love. From time to time, though, people would gossip. Unlike the faculty of Arts, it isn’t weird for people who can’t see colors to study Literature so when there are rumors about someone discovering their true love, word always spreads like wild fire through a dry forest.

“Makoto-senpai!” A voice calls him and he can hear footsteps running towards him. It’s Gou, who stops in front of him with a hasty breath, “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I had to check some notes first.”

The grass crunches under her weight when Gou sits down. Makoto offers her a reassuring smile and says, “No problem, Gou-chan.”

“Makoto-senpai, will be there one day when you actually call me Kou?” A ruffle of a package being opened attracts his attention, must be Gou’s food.

“Your name is alright, Gou-chan.” Makoto also opens his food, some bread filled with curry.

“Says the one with girly name.”

Makoto simply laughs at the teasing and starts to eat. He had expected this encounter to be more awkward, but is glad to be proven wrong. The brunette still has to talk about it and apologize.

“Say, Gou-chan—“

“Kou.”

“Gou-chan,” He has to suppress a chuckle when the girl huffs, “About yesterday…”

“It’s ok, Makoto-senpai,” She’s quick to say, “I shouldn’t have pried into it, it’s not my business.”

“No, Gou-chan, I’m sorry.” Makoto lowers his hands to rest over his crossed legs, “You were trying to help and I acted weird with you. I’m sorry.” Gou doesn’t reply immediately, but Makoto is able to hear her shifting a little in her place.

“Alright, Makoto-senpai, I accept your apology.” Her tone sounds more tranquil and it brings light to his heart.

"So..." She begins again, "You and Nanase..."

"Don't insist on that, Gou-chan." It doesn't hurt as much as it did last night, but he doesn't want to risk it.

"You know?" She sounds dismissive suddenly, "He looks like a nice guy..."

Oh, no. This isn't happening. This definitely isn't happening.

"And, I mean, he obviously cares for you and..."

"Gou-chan, don't say ridiculous stuff." He tries to laugh it off, but it sounds a little fake.

"I'm just saying!" She gets defensive quickly, "Maybe you should try it out? What hurt can it cause?"

Makoto stays silent with his lips pressured into a thin line. If he could see, he would stare really hard at her.

"I'm not interested in Haru in that way," He lies with all his might, "And, even if I were, you know what could happen."

Society really hates it when people play around before finding their true destined love. For him, Makoto, maybe the judgment and shaming wouldn't be as harsh – being blind and all, people love to pity him – but for Haru it would be another story. Society would shame him for accepting Makoto's feelings, on the wild chance he did accept them.

Besides, Makoto wouldn't dare to do something as selfish as keeping Haru for himself, stealing away his opportunity of finding true love in the near future.

"Yeah, I'm sorry..." The young woman whispers, "It's just that... You look so happy when you are with him."

Makoto sighs. Is he that obvious?

"He's my friend; of course I'm happy with him." He says and finishes his line with a smile.

They continue to eat in relative silence; Gou sometimes talking about her friends and classes, until it's time for Makoto to get to his next class. After a short farewell, the brunette arrives to his designated classroom and sits in his place. When he is taking out his Braille slate from the backpack, a male voice talks to him from his right.

"Hey, Tachibana, I have a question." Says the voice. This voice belongs to Hiro Matsuda, some guy Makoto doesn’t really talk to but has this class with him.

"Sure. Tell me, Matsuda."

"You are friends with Matsuoka Gou, right? I see you two together all the time."

A knot promptly forms in Makoto's throat. He doesn't like where this is going.

"Yeah, she's my friend." He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"She can't see colors, right?" Makoto's stomach does a flip at the question. To his knowledge, Matsuda isn't able to see in color either.

But rumors travel far and wide and Matsuda has a lot of nasty not-so-secret secrets behind him.

"She isn't looking for something right now." Makoto says instead of responding the question.

"Oh, Tachibana, don't be like that! Who knows? Maybe we are destined to be!"

"I'm pretty sure you have looked her in the eyes, Matsuda." His fists tighten on the desk.

"Look, Tachibana," Matsuda's voice gets lower, almost a murmur, "I know she's your friend and all, but don't be a prude. She can make her own decisions, right?"

Makoto is sure Gou can make her own decisions, and he's sure she would decide to throw this guy in the trash. But he also knows he won't let this man get near Gou.

"Don't be so selfish, Tachibana, c'mon." The voice continues at a whisper, if only a little more desperate and annoyed now. Wait, selfish?

"What do you mean?" Makoto is almost afraid to ask. And his fears are confirmed when he hears Matsuda's low scoff.

"Everyone knows about you two."

This isn't happening.

"It's pretty obvious. You always hang out together. And you're bli—“ Matsuda cuts himself, "And you're hot, I can admit that, and—“

"Stop." Matsuda gets quiet at the order.

"What?"

"Stop talking and go away, Matsuda. And don't think of ever going near her." His blood boils when a laugh bursts in the air.

"So it's true? You and Matsuoka are—“

Makoto doesn't hear whatever Matsuda is about to say because he pushes the man's head forward, making Matsuda hit his face against the desk with a loud noise.

The classroom goes silent except for Matsuda's whimpers and whines. Makoto knows everyone must be watching him, so he grabs his stuff, stands up and walks out of the classroom. His heart is beating so fast he has trouble hearing anything else around him. Blood filled with adrenaline is furiously pumping throughout his body like poison and he absolutely hates it because it all feels like too much.

He has never been a violent man, never in his life, but if there’s something he can’t tolerate it’s people talking badly of his friends. Matsuda got what he deserved and Makoto definitely doesn’t regret any part of it. And it’s not like Matsuda can go and complain to the school when he’s the one who was asking such hideous things in order to “get closer” to Gou. It’s when he’s outside the main building that a cold blow of air calms the agitated ideas in his head.

Rumors can be nasty and dangerous, he already knows that, but he didn’t think it would be like this or that Gou would be a victim of them. She doesn’t deserve that. Whatever decision she makes about her sexuality and relationships is only hers alone and people shouldn’t comment on it. Stupid society and its retrograde ideals of love.

The college is always alive, so it isn’t surprising when there are people outside the building. Makoto walks towards one of the picnic tables and sits; he needs a moment to think.

If these rumors continue, Gou’s reputation and safety could be compromised. Maybe that’s why Matsuda even thought of getting close to her. But what should Makoto do? It’s not like he can just stop talking to her out of nowhere, she’s his friend! The brown-haired man wonders if the redhead girl is aware of the gossip. What if she is but never mentioned it before?

Nakagawa’s situation travels back to his mind. It’s unsafe in this world to go outside of the status quo, even if this “New Age Revolution” of “free love” is roaring right now. His mind now travels towards Haru and Gou’s words from earlier about “giving it a try”. He knows she’s just trying to give him some type of hope or something like that; an opportunity to get to know what love is, even if it isn’t a true one.

His heart cries a little and it hurts. What is this type of love, anyways? If they aren’t destined to be, does that mean this love is fake? Does that mean this love isn’t real?

Without realizing, his hand moves and rests on his chest, clenching the t-shirt tightly. Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel fake.

He discovers it’s 12:30 PM by rubbing the nubs in his wrist watch. He should simply go home, this class was the last one and he already lost half of it because of his storming off.

 

His place is almost silent when he enters. While leaving the cane leaning against the wall next to the main door, a musical tone distracts his thoughts. A smile immediately covers his lips as he recognizes the soft music; it’s American Jazz music and he’s sure it isn’t coming from inside his apartment. He lets the music guide him towards the bedroom and with a hand touches the wall he shares with the artist.

He can’t help but wonder at what moment did Haruka get a taste for Jazz music; was it there since forever? Or did Makoto have something to do with it? A chuckle escapes from his lips at the wishful thought. The bed creaks when he sits down on it, resting his back and head on the cold wall while closing his eyes. The music slowly takes him far away to a place where he wouldn’t have to worry about nasty rumors or fake loves.

 

* * *

 

The air is filled with the calming music of saxophone, it’s slow and low, but the delicate sound of a pencil stroking over paper interrupts the relaxing tone. Haru is sitting on his desk, hunched over a big sketchbook. The page shows various scribbles and sketches of figures in different positions. Specks of eraser invade the desk area around the sketchbook and Haruka’s fingertips are slightly dark from the the pencil’s graphite.

On Friday he only has three classes which is why he can be home early. Today he was called by the professor in charge of the art exposition Haruka is participating on; the old man asked him about his project. The artist didn’t tell him how it was ruined because of the rain, nor did he tell him about the new one he’s working on. The reason for that it’s because Haruka had decided to surprise everyone at the exposition, he’s sure that if he were to tell the professor the change of plans, the faculty member would try to convince him to do something else or to just try to replicate the ruined piece.

Haruka moves his neck a little to make it crack and then he stretches his back. He’s been sketching for about an hour and he hasn’t decided on exactly what he’s going to do for his entry yet. He already has a general idea, but the specifics are still a little misty.

Deciding to stand up in order to grab something to drink, he realizes the other side of the wall has been pretty silent all this time. Makoto must still be at college. Haruka fills the kettle to make tea once he gets to the kitchen. To be honest, he’s been a little distracted all day because he can’t think of a good enough excuse to hang out with his yet-to-be lover Makoto. Perhaps it’s better like this, since Haruka has to work on his project and he is progressing painfully slow.

The stove is turned on, the kettle positioned in its designated place, and Haruka sits down at his little table to wait for it to whistle.

Still, the artist ponders on the possibility of Makoto coming over to his place. Haru remembers Matsuoka’s advice, about spending time alone with Makoto. The idea of being just the two of them really attracts Haru. He can almost picture it; Haruka advancing on his project and Makoto reading next to him, both of them silently sitting at the table with just the Jazz music as background. They wouldn’t need to talk and it wouldn’t be awkward. Maybe Haru would be brave enough to grab Makoto’s hand over the table, the brunette would smile at him with that beam that is so him and expresses that all is well. And, maybe – just maybe – Haru would be even braver and move closer to Makoto in order to ki—

The kettle’s crying wakes him up and he opens eyes he hadn’t realized he closed. Standing up, a question wanders through his head; should he be more assertive towards Makoto? After all, he only has another week to make the brunette fall in love with him.

He grabs a mug from the counter and pours in hot water with tea. Sure, maybe he has been a little too passive with Makoto, and now that he thinks about it, it’s Makoto who usually initiates the social contact. He can’t help it when a light smile appears on his lips. The good thing is that Haruka already made a move, inviting Makoto to the art exposition.

That was the first part of his plan.

He doesn’t deem himself as super intelligent or anything like that, but he’s pretty proud of his scheme this time. And it all revolves around the art exposition.

Either way, he can’t just rely on the exposition alone; he should work harder towards the fateful day just to make sure that everything will result in happiness. He’s about to take a sip from the mug when a sudden thought invades his mind, sharp and abrupt like lightning in the middle of a dark night with no moon and it makes the heart jump and accelerate.

What if it doesn’t work?

An unexpected feeling of dizziness washes over him and his head aches, so he runs a hand through his black hair in hopes of calming the pain but it’s useless. The possibility of it not working hadn’t entered his mind, he just thought it would be like that, that everything would be alright at the end.

It has to be, right? Even if Makoto doesn’t know they are destined to be, Makoto does feel something for him, right? That’s why Makoto has been acting weird lately, right?

But what if it isn’t?

Leaving the mug on the counter, he sits down and covers his face with both hands. What is happening? His breath is getting uneasy and he’s slightly trembling. The thought of never be able to be with Makoto hurts so much. It hurts so much that a gasp breaks through his lips. He feels cold and a tight knot in his stomach and makes him restless.

What if the plan doesn’t work? What if the two weeks pass? What would happen then? What would Matsuoka make him do? Would Matsuoka tell Makoto the truth about Haruka being able to see colors? How would Makoto react to that?

A sob chokes his throat and it’s horrible. Standing up, he walks to his bedroom and grabs the phone, pressing the number he wants and returning to the kitchen.

“Haru-chan, hello!” Nagisa greets at the other side of the line.

“How does it feel when you’re apart from Rei?”

“Mmmmh, always straight to the point, Haru-chan! Not even asking how am I…” Haru feels a little guilty, but the stinging pain in his heart is stronger.

“Sorry.” He apologizes anyways.

“It’s ok, it’s ok.” The blond says, “I can sense you’re a little antsy, is something wrong?”

This is it. Haruka confesses to Nagisa about how Matsuoka already knows about him and Makoto being destined to be, about how Matsuoka gave him two weeks to make Makoto fall in love with him, and about how he’s kind of feeling like shit right now.

“Haru-chan, calm down,” Nagisa tries to reassure him, his voice serious and calm. “Don’t be afraid, what you’re feeling is normal.”

The dark-haired man sits on the ugly-colored couch, eyes closed and his breathing a little better.

“I know you don’t like talking about feelings and stuff,” His friend continues, “But it is normal, I’ve told you, haven’t I? It’s a true, destined love thing. You aren’t together with Mako-chan yet and that’s why you’re getting these weird ideas out of nowhere.”

Haruka doesn’t reply. He doesn’t feel like it.

“Whenever I spend too much time apart from Rei, I start to feel like shit too. But that’s normal; it’s something you learn to control as time passes.” Haru hears a chuckle in his right ear. “I remember the first time I had to spend vacation without Rei-chan, you remember, Haru-chan?”

Of course Haru remembers the tragedy. Rei and Nagisa had gotten together just a month previous to winter vacation, and Rei had to go visit relatives in another city. Nagisa spent about a week feeling weird until it was too much and he cried for a whole day. When Rei finally came back, the both of them were inseparable for a whole week, holding hands constantly and Nagisa hugging Rei all the time.

But Haruka also remembers how Nagisa and Rei indeed learnt to deal with separation as time passed. It’s something people have to do in order to function correctly in their busy lives.

Scientists can’t exactly explain why people can be ok before meeting their destined true love, but feel like shit if they are separated, for whatever reason, from their special person. Some theories say that it’s because meeting their lover is supposed to spur something inside people’s brain, producing some kind of psychological link or connection between them, so when they are separated for a long period of time people start to feel anxious.

Nowadays it’s a little easier to overcome such separations thanks to technology – be it videochat, phones, airplanes, or whatever – but there’s classic literature about couples falling in despair because of the separation from their lover. Haruka has a vague memory of his grandmother telling him a fairytale about a mermaid whose true, destined lover was a human but they couldn’t be together because of how different they were. At the end of the tale, the human dies trying to live with the mermaid. It’s supposed to be an inspiring story about how strong love is, but Haruka has always thought it’s a way too creepy tale for children.

“But, seriously, I can’t believe Rin-chan would tell you that!” Nagisa’s voice brings Haruka back to the present, “What is wrong with him? And what is supposed to happen if you can’t make Makoto fall in love with you in those two weeks?”

To Haruka’s surprise, Nagisa actually sounds angry.

“I don’t know.” Haruka confesses. “He said he was leaving in two weeks, and that he didn’t want to leave Makoto like that.”

“I guess that makes sense…”

Matsuoka is just taking care of his friend, just as much as Nagisa wants to protect Haru, and this is something Haruka himself knows and accepts.

“Don’t you worry, Haru-chan! I’m sure you’ll get it right!” The blond’s words of support make Haru feel better with himself. “Oh, but…”

Nagisa’s voice disappears slowly until it’s just a whisper and finally silence. Haruka doesn’t say anything because he concludes his friend is thinking about something.

“Haru-chan… how…” He sounds kind of alarmed. Haruka opens his blue eyes at this and realizes he’s holding his breath, “How will you know when Makoto is in love with you?”

The artist gulps and it tastes like acid slowly going down his throat, burning his stomach and even more. The forgotten headache comes back again with more force and pain.

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how he will know if Makoto is in love with him. He can hear how Nagisa keeps talking but Haru can’t bring himself to pay attention. What if indeed his plan works, but Makoto is afraid to tell him? It wouldn’t be that strange because Makoto thinks Haruka can’t see colors. And confessing could be really dangerous. Makoto would probably think of never confessing because he’s afraid of scaring Haruka away; or maybe because he’s afraid of the possible, and very much real, consequences whitin of a society where destined links are top priority.

“Haru-chan!” His name travels through his ear, coming from the phone, “Haru-chan, don’t panic! You’ll think of something, you’ll see!”

Nagisa is trying to make him feel better, but Haru can recognize the faint alarm in his tone of voice.

“A—ah! I know!” The blond says, “Why don’t you go spend some time with Mako-chan? I bet that’ll help you feel better!” His voice is trembling.

“I don’t have an excuse.” Haru replies with his monotonous voice.

“You’re friends! You don’t need an excuse!” Nagisa insists, “Please, Haru-chan.”

“I need to go.” Haru announces.

“Haru-chan, wait!—“

It’s the first time Haruka is the one who hangs up without waiting for a farewell from Nagisa. He walks outside of his apartment to the next door and knocks. He doesn’t even know if Makoto is there, but is gladly surprised when a voice asks him to identify himself.

“It’s Haru.” He says and his heart beats faster when he hears the door being unlocked. A pair of the brightest green eyes welcomes him with a smile.

“Hello, Haru, can I help you?”

“I bought Jazz music.” He surprises himself with his apparent new-found ability to come up with excuses.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Makoto laughs a little, “I can hear it in my room.” Haru’s cheeks turn a light shade of red.

“Is it bothering you?”

“Oh, no. Not at all! You chose well for your first CD.”

Haru opens his mouth but closes it almost immediately. C’mon, Haru, just do it.

“Could you…” He begins and Makoto arches both eyebrows in wonder, “Could you teach me more about it?”

Now it’s Makoto’s cheeks that get a brush of red across them, he looks taken aback at the request. Maybe it’s a weird thing to ask?

“If you’re busy it’s ok—“

“Sure!” Makoto interrupts him, taking a step further and Haru has to back up a little. “I mean—“ The brunette clears his throat and crosses his arms, but still smiling. “I can help you and, you know, teach you.”

After a somewhat awkward interchange of small details, it’s decided that the teaching will be at Makoto’s place because he is the one with a more extensive library of music. Haruka goes to his apartment for his only CD and returns to Makoto’s. They sit in the small living room, with the coffee table covered with CDs.

It’s only the second time Haru’s been inside Makoto’s apartment and it gives him a weird feeling. That isn’t important right now, though, what it’s important is that he’s spending time together with Makoto.

Nagisa was right, the weird and painful feeling in his stomach, heart and head promptly disappeared the moment his eyes spotted Makoto’s figure in front of him.

Makoto starts to tell him the story of Jazz inside of Japan. Jazz, as everyone knows, started in the United States and years later it reached these lands. In the beginning, this music was considered anti-national by conservatives.

“They even closed Jazz halls all over Osaka.” Makoto explains, “So a lot of Jazz musicians traveled to Tokyo to continue this art.”

By 1930, composers created their own “Japanese Jazz Music” to try overcome the controversial qualities of the American Jazz Music. That would explain why the girl at the music store asked Haru what type of Jazz he was looking for.

“Personally, I think I like American Jazz better.” Makoto offers, tentatively touching the CD cases on the table. Haru notices that the cases have little dots of poofy paint in them, and Makoto’s fingers passing over the dots; must be the CD’s names in Braille. “Ah, here. This is a classic.”

Makoto stands up with the CD in hand and walks towards the stereo, putting it on and pressing the play button. The music starts with piano and a sultry voice in a language Haruka doesn’t understand begins to sing. It’s a deep voice accompanied by a saxophone. It immediately relaxes Haru completely and feels like closing his eyes, but he can’t stop looking at Makoto.

The brunette is still standing in front of the stereo, eyes closed and a soft smile adorning his lips. Haru can see Makoto’s foot moving with the rhythm of the saxophone. A desire to stand up and hold Makoto by the middle from behind is present inside of him, but he is able to contain it.

When the song stops, Makoto turns his head to Haru’s direction, still smiling.

“That was Johnny Hartman,” The brunette laughs at his horrible English pronunciation, “The saxophone was John Coltrane. They aren’t that known over here.” He finishes with a shrug.

Makoto continues to show Haru different CDs and different singers, musicians and composers – both from Japanese and American Jazz –, showing him his favorites, suggesting and recommending a few that Haru should totally listen to and buy.

The artist is silent most of the time, content with just listening to what Makoto is saying. His future lover’s face is radiant, as he is visibly excited about sharing his fascination and love for this type of art.

While looking at Makoto’s green eyes, he almost feels ridiculous for thinking that his plan could fail at some point. They are destined to be together, it doesn’t matter what happens, that’s how it’s going to end.

The two of them together, hand in hand, forever and for the rest of their lives. It’s as clear as water, as simple as 1 plus 1 is 2, as beautiful as the saxophone playing right now. The realization of this makes that a deep emotion floods his heart, making it beat faster but this time it isn’t painful but joyful. Is this what Nagisa and Rei felt when they reunited after that week of separation?

The emotion coats him fully and it’s so delectable that Haruka never wants it to end.  And this is what prompts him to get closer to Makoto, to the point of where their knees touch just barely but it’s enough, for now, for him.

Makoto stiffens for a moment, but doesn’t move away.

“Say, Haru…” The brunette starts talking and blue eyes look at him intently.

 

* * *

 

It’s just now that Makoto becomes conscious of how much he has talked; with Haru’s knee touching his own. The contact is hardly there but the brown-haired man can definitely feel it. It’s weird, it’s not like he isn’t used to physical contact – in fact his little siblings acclimated him to surprise hugs – but this time it feels totally different.

It’s Haru who is touching him – well, kind of –, it’s Haru who decided to get closer to him.

“Say, Haru…” He begins after swallowing the lump in his throat, “What do you think about all this? I keep talking and talking.”

He laughs it off as if nothing, but in reality he really wants to hear Haru’s voice right now. He wants to hear that perfect voice of his in person, matching with the delicate tone of piano and saxophone coming from the stereo. He wants to hear him even if he knows it isn’t that good of an idea.

“I like it.” Haru says and Makoto trembles a little, praying for Haru to not notice it through his knee.

“Have you always been interested in Jazz?” Makoto asks in hopes of calming his heart.

“No. It’s just…” Haru’s voice drifts for a moment and Makoto already misses it, “It’s just that you always listen to it.”

The brunette wishes for the burning feeling in his cheeks is just his imagination and not a reality.

“Ah, sorry. Does it bother you?”

“I didn’t say that.” He sounds a little annoyed and the brunette laughs at this.

After that, Haru stays silent and Makoto doesn’t feel like pushing him into talking. Honestly, Makoto has been feeling pretty shitty lately, at first he didn’t understand why, but soon enough he comprehended that it was because of Haru. Not only that, but it was because he’s in love with this man sitting right next to him. He had thought that maybe it would be impossible to stay with the artist, that maybe it would hurt too much to be with him.

But now, sitting here, Makoto understands that this is where he’s supposed to be. Even if they aren’t destined to be, Makoto is willing to be there for as long as Haruka permits it.

And it will be ok.

Huh, how weird. Last night he was practically falling into despair and now he’s feeling pretty much at peace. It might be because he’s with Haruka right now.

“I’m working on my art project.” His companion suddenly shares.

“Mmm? And how is it going?”

“Bad.” Haru says but for some reason Makoto knows it’s not that bad, “I can’t decide on the details.” The brunette once again laughs a little.

“But you have the idea, don’t you? It’ll be fine. Ah, but I don’t have any idea of how art works…” He laughs lightly. “I bet you’re excited.”

The artist doesn’t say anything at first, but Makoto can feel him looking at him. He finds himself wishing Haru would continue looking at him.

“Yes, I am.” The other man finally replies and Makoto catches the slight hint of a smile.

“I’m glad.” Makoto says with a smile of his own, “And what is your project about?”

“It’s a painting.”

“About?”

“I won’t tell you.” Haru quickly reveals. Makoto notices the blink of playfulness in his voice.

“How am I supposed to know, then?” He asks while laughing.

“I’ll tell you there.”

“By the way, can I invite Rin and the others?” Makoto senses some movement, maybe Haru is nodding.

“Sure.”

Silence falls over them for a second time, but it isn’t awkward. On the contrary, it feels familiar and normal. It feels as if it’s supposed to be like this. A smile creeps onto his lips as he remembers Rin’s words from yesterday about how he feels when he’s with Yamazaki.

Is this what Rin feels like with Yamazaki? Makoto guesses they must feel it more intense and profound as they are true destined lovers, unlike him and Haruka. Wow, real love must be amazing if it can’t be compared with what Makoto is feeling.

“Makoto.” That voice calling his name makes him come back from his inner thoughts.

“Yes, Haru?”

He isn’t prepared when he feels gentle and tender fingertips touch his right forearm. The contact makes his hair stand on point in a second and his skin starts to tingle, even more when said fingertips travel to his hand and stay there. A second hand follows the first one out of nowhere and soon Makoto’s hand is embraced between the other two. A warm sensation stemming from the linked hands covers his body slowly.

It’s not the first time Haru has touched his hand, as a matter of fact, the other man actually does it kind of regularly, but it’s always when Makoto is feeling badly. It’s as if Haruka could sense whenever Makoto needed the touch.

“Could you teach me how to read Braille?” Haru asks, but is it really necessary to whisper the question?

“Sure.” Makoto replies and he’s proud that his voice didn’t crack. “Want me to teach you now? I mean, it would be just the basics…”

“It’s fine. I want to learn.”

“Ok, I just need to get my stuff. I’ll be back.”

And with that, Makoto stands up, and walks to his bedroom. He takes the opportunity to take a deep breath and pass his hands through his hair. Resting a shoulder on a wall, Makoto slightly moves the fingers of the hand that had been held by Haru. In a moment of weakness and privacy, he places his lips over the back of his hand.

Haru’s voice is perfect, and so is his touch.

The silence is interrupted by music and it makes him yelp a little. It’s his phone ringing in his pocket. This definitely isn’t the moment for this.

“Rin?” Makoto asks after answering.

“Indeed it is I, Makoto. How are you doing?”

“Uhm, I’m fine but, uhm,” How can Makoto cut off the call soon to go back to Haru? He can’t just tell Rin that.

“Are you busy?” Rin questions.

“Kind of, yeah.”

“Were you jerking off? You sound nervous.” The redhead snorts.

“N—no, I wasn’t!” He yells, then lowers his voice and turns his head. “I’m with Haru, he wants to learn how to read Braille.” This time he whispers.

“Mmmh? Does he?” Rin actually sounds kind of impressed for some reason, “And where are you?”

“At my place.” What does that have to do with anything?

“Are you alone?” This is getting confusing by the second.

“Yes, why?”

“No, nothing.” Rin sounds on the verge of snorting, “Well, I’ll leave you alone then. Have fun, I’ll call you later.”

Rin hangs up after that. What the fuck?

Shaking the weird sensation from his body, Makoto grabs his backpack and walks back to Haru, but he stops abruptly at his bedroom door when he hears another ringtone, it must be Haru’s phone.

“Yes?” The dark-haired man answers, “What do you want?”

The brunette knows he shouldn’t listen to Haru’s personal calls, but his curiosity peeks at Haruka’s annoyed tone. Who could it be?

“I’m not trying to—“ Haru is interrupted and stays silent for a moment. “Did you call just to make fun of me?”

More silence.

“I’m hanging up.” The artist finishes the call and releases  a sigh. Makoto smiles a little.

There’s so much of Haru he doesn’t know, but that he’s willing to discover and learn. What’s his personal life like? What other friends does he have?

With these questions in mind, Makoto continues his way back to the living room.

“Haru?”

“I’m here.” The voice replies to his call and it causes him to shudder.

“I know.” Makoto murmurs with a soft smile before sitting in his place again, noticing how the other man gets closer to him in an instant and their knees are touching again. Makoto pulls the Braille slate, the pointed stylus and pieces of paper from his backpack.

“This is a Braille slate,” Makoto begins to explain while opening the artifact and placing the paper inside of it with ease, “It has squares so you can write the letters more easily with the stylus.” He picks up the mentioned utensil. “Let me just write the alphabet and then I’ll show you.”

He does as said, rapidly punching the paper with the stylus.

“There are these machines too; they look kind of like a typewriter, and they are way faster to write with. They are too big to carry them around, though; that’s why I prefer to write like this.” Haru just hums in agreement, “There.”

Taking out the piece of paper, he places it over the coffee table.

“This is the alphabet in Japanese Braille. I know it must look confusing, but once you get used to it, it’s really easy. Here, this is the letter A, touch it.”

His fingertips are soon touched by another pair of fingers, making him remove his own.

“It’s just a dot.” Haru observes.

“And the next one is the letter I, touch it.”

Minutes pass between smiles, soft giggles coming from Makoto and little hums from Haru. To Makoto’s surprise, Haru is a fast learner and soon he’s able to recognize about 20 or so of the symbols punctuated on the paper.

“Why don’t you try to write your name?” Makoto says, passing the Braille slate and the stylus to Haru, who takes them. The brunette is able to hear the paper being punched, and when Haru finishes he gives it to Makoto. “Let’s read here…”

At first, Makoto is confused because this definitely isn’t the “Ha” symbol, but once he reads everything, his cheeks begin to feel weird and his stomach gets a tight feeling.

“This isn’t your name.” Makoto clarifies with a nervous giggle. Haruka doesn’t respond.

He reads it again just to make sure he didn’t mess up. But his doubts are dissipated when his fingers clearly identify “Makoto” on the paper.

_"And, I mean, he obviously cares for you and..."_

What is it with the Matsuokas and invading his thoughts at the most unsuitable moments? This isn’t the time for Kou’s voice to mingle his mind and make his heart to want to run away.

“Makoto.” Haru calls for him and the brunette’s throat suddenly feels dry.

“Yes?” He asks after licking his lips.

_“Maybe you should try it out? What hurt can it cause?"_

“Thanks.” The artist then places his hand over Makoto’s forearm again and causing him to tense under the touch, “For your time, thanks.”

_"It's just that... You look so happy when you are with him."_

Makoto gulps before answering, “It’s nothing, Haru, really.”

The taller man expects Haru to remove his hand, but he doesn’t and it starts to feel really hot on his skin. At what moment had it become hard to breathe? At what moment did time stop? And at what moment did his other hand reach for Haru’s on his forearm?

It’s Haru’s turn to tense at the sudden contact, he probably wasn’t expecting Makoto to reciprocate the touch. But how can Makoto resist such thing when Haru is so close, touching him, and talking to him with Jazz as background music?

“Makoto.”

It’s inevitable when a shudder goes down his spine as Haru’s lips says his name in a soft voice. His perfect voice traveling through his ears directly to his chest, making his heart beat faster and his breathe stop and disappear.

“Yes, Haru?” It isn’t on purpose when his voice comes out as merely a whisper. His heart’s palpitations roar inside his head and ears when Haru gets closer to him, their thighs now completely touching. Makoto feels like if he opens his mouth, his heart is going to take the opportunity to escape through it.

“I like being with you.”

He can’t hear anything else around him. It’s as if the whole world stopped existing just so he can submerge himself in that phrase, spoken with that perfect voice.

“Me too, Haru.”

He can feel his hands burning, yearning to touch the other man more. Just his hand isn’t enough anymore. He wants—

_“Maybe you should try it out? What hurt can it cause?"_

He wants—

_“Promise me that if you ever, **ever** , feel something like this you’re gonna pursue it.”_

He wants—

_“But we are so scared.”_

His heart stops altogether at the memory of Nakagawa’s voice.

Makoto stands up and takes a few steps away from the couch, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile that he can feel is pretty obviously forced, and he just hopes it’s good enough to convince the man in front of him that everything is alright.

“Haru, I’m sorry.” He begins, praying for his voice to at least sound normal, “But I need to go, I just remembered I need to do some stuff.”

Silence is all he receives for an answer at first, until he hears movement coming from the couch.

“Ok.” Haru replies, “Sorry to bother you.”

“You aren’t—you aren’t a bother, Haru! Really.” It’s Makoto who wants to run away.

“I’ll see you later?” It’s a question and it kind of hurts Makoto. What if he made Haru feel rejected? No, Haru, that isn’t the case at all!

“Of course! I’ll make it up to you, promise.” More silence that feels eternal.

“Promise.”

After that, Makoto takes Haru to the door and bids farewell. He immediately takes his phone and calls.

“Hey, Makoto! Are you bored yet with Nana—“

“Rin.” He doesn’t have time to waste.

“What is it, Makoto? Is something wrong?”

Makoto gulps and leans on the wall, resting his back and head against it.

“I need to tell you something.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay on this chapter! Here it is and I'll hope next chapters are updated quickly from now on...
> 
> I wanna thank [WaterbearCosmonaut](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterbearCosmonaut/pseuds/WaterbearCosmonaut) for being such an awesome beta ♥.
> 
> Please enjoy!

The sun is still uncovered by the clouds, the air continues to be cool and crisp against the skin and it fills everyone’s noses with a cold sensation. Far away, thunder can be heard in the sky, and it sounds like the sobs and whimpers of someone about to cry profusely because it hurts so much to breathe.

But the people in the city don’t seem to care about the poor sky that is about to cry, they continue on their own things as if the thunders above their heads are non-existent. Why would they care, anyways? They have their own business to deal with. Why doesn’t  the sky deal with its problems too, like everyone else does?

To the sky’s luck, there will always be someone who understands it, someone who can relate to the sky’s pain and maybe even accompany it through the hurt. This time, it’s the brunette’s turn to share the sky’s pain.

Makoto is sitting in the same café he did a week ago, in fact he’s almost sure he’s in the same table and chair as last time. And he’s doing the same thing he was doing that day.

“Makoto!”

It’s his friend’s voice, calling his name as he did last time. But on this occasion it doesn’t feel happy or joyful, Makoto dares to think that voice sounds worried.

“Makoto, how are you?” Rin asks the moment he pulls the chair to sit down, “Nanase did something to you?”

Of course Rin would ask that first. How could Makoto answer, though? Because yes, Haruka did something to him, but that something isn’t bad. Or so Makoto would like to think. It’s the green-eyed man’s problem because he fell in love with the artist, isn’t it?

“No, Rin, nothing like that.” Makoto replies while smiling. It’s obvious Rin would come with that worried thought, Rin is like that. Always thinking about his friends and how to protect them from everything that could hurt them; but what would Rin do if it’s his own friend, in this case Makoto, who could possibly hurt him?

“Then what’s the problem?” The other man continues with his questioning.

“It’s not really a problem, I—“

“You’re doing it.” Makoto stops speaking at the other man’s interruption. “You are doing that weird smile you do whenever you try to lie.”

This time Makoto giggles honestly. He knew this would happen. Lying to everyone else is easy, lying to Rin is nearly impossible.

“It’s not really a problem… yet,” Makoto corrects himself, “But it’s… weird, I guess.” Rin doesn’t say anything, so he carries on.

“Remember yesterday when you said that if I ever feel something like… ‘that’,” he feels a little ridiculous for not being brave enough to call it love. He isn’t that sure that it’s love, anyways. “I should do something about it?”

Rin doesn’t say anything at first, maybe he’s processing the rhetorical question and making his own conclusions about this out of-the-blue meet up with weird conversations.

“Yeah… what about it?” The redhead encourages him to proceed, and his voice sounds careful. Is he getting defensive?

Whatever happens, Makoto decides, he’s going to deal with the consequences. How will Rin react? Will he yell at him? Would he tell him to stop fucking around? Would Rin advise him to stop having any kind of hope? So many questions aggravating Makoto’s mind that his mouth isn’t brave enough to ask.

What if Rin holds it against Haru, instead? Rin can sometimes be obtuse and direct his anger in the wrong direction, his mind clouded in ire. Would this be the case? There’s just one way to find out.

“I’m in love with someone.”

He says, expecting the heavy weight on his shoulders to disappear with the spoken words, but that doesn’t happen; and he’s left with the same weight over him, a sour taste in his mouth, and a trembling heart that awaits a reaction from the man in front of him. But the redhead doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even move, not a single peep or drag of the chair. The only noise filling his ears is the chattering of other people minding their own business, unaware of the fatidic confession that has happened right in front of their noses; unaware of how these two men are encircled by an unreadable atmosphere.

“Really?” His friend’s voice finally reaches the air, “You are not fucking with me?”

Makoto can’t help it when he knits his eyebrows together. He wasn’t expecting this reaction.

“No, Rin.” Makoto clarifies, “Well… I guess I should call it ‘love’, but, you know,” He shrugs his shoulders, “I’m blind.”

More silence that makes Makoto’s skin prickle. What is going to happen now? Rin is acting way too out of character. Way too calm for Makoto’s liking.

“Who is it?” the redhead voice is bordering on anger, along with expectancy, it’s a strange combination. “Do I know them?”

Oh.

Should he tell him? Should Makoto tell Rin that he’s in love with the very same man Rin warned him about just a few days ago?

He can feel his lower lips slightly trembling.

“Makoto,” His name again, this time accompanied with the drag of the chair and a soft hand grabbing his wrist. Rin must have gotten closer to touch him. “Makoto, you can tell me. I know you are afraid, but you can tell me.”

Hope.

Rin’s voice is full of hope.

Hope that floods Makoto’s heart with a strange feeling; a feeling that could be translated as belief, confidence, promise, and even security. It’s weird, it’s off, it’s rare, and yet it prompts Makoto to smile a big grin that offers assurance to Rin, whose grip on the brunette’s wrist loosens a bit with less tension.

“Yes, you know him.” The grip once again tightens.

“Who is him?” Rin is so eager and Makoto can practically breathe Rin’s impatient wish to know.

“You’re gonna laugh if I tell you.” The brunette says instead, not sure anymore if he’s doing it just to tease his friend or because he’s still afraid of the consequences.

“Shit, Makoto, just tell me.” He shakes the other man’s wrist in exasperation.

“It’s Haru.”

It’s then that Makoto takes notice of how hard his heart is beating against his chest. Does it want to escape? Is it afraid? Or is the other way? Is it excited? Thrilled?

Far away he can hear the thunders getting louder and louder. It feels like the sky is anticipating something big that cannot be controlled by pure human force. The thought of rain and water makes his throat suddenly dry and he licks his lips in an attempt to calm himself down.

The hand over his wrist brings him back to where he is, to where his attention is supposed to be, as the grip tightens to the point of hurting but it isn’t bothersome in the least because Makoto can feel Rin’s emotions through it.

“Fuck,” Rin’s voice says, muffled, probably against a hand that is covering his mouth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Rin, don’t cry—“

“I’m not crying.” But Makoto can recognize how broken that voice is, even if it’s just a little. “That fucking asshole, that fucking little shit.” Rin murmurs but Makoto decides to ignore it because he doesn’t know how to react.

Is Rin insulting Haru? Is Rin mad at Haru? Rin should be mad at Makoto for falling in love with Haru. The artist didn’t do anything exceptional for it to end with Makoto’s heart beating for him.

When the brunette is about to speak, something wet and cold lands on the bridge of his nose, going down slowly through his cheek. It’s beginning to rain.

“Rin, we need to—“

“No, no.” His friend interrupts him, “I’m not leaving alone. I’m going with you.”

His heart flutters when he hears Rin’s voice, all excited, on the border of giggling. It fills his chest with a warm feeling.

“C’mon, c’mon.” Rin is standing next to him and pulling him by the arm. “Let’s go to your place.”

Makoto has just enough time to grab his cane, before Rin drags him to the train station. Running through the crowd, and guided by Rin who keeps pulling him by the wrist, Makoto can feel the cold air hit his face and play with the brown hair on his head. He knows he should tell Rin to slow down, that an accident could occur if they continue like this, but the easy-going sensation inside of him is stronger than his rational thoughts right now. Besides, Rin’s laugh distracts his mind.

They must look ridiculous, two grown adults running like this through the sea of people on the street, laughing as if there isn’t anything to worry about.

As if Makoto just didn’t confess his non-linked love for a person who can’t see colors.

 

By the time they arrive at Makoto’s place, both are drenched to the bone. Rin never lets go of Makoto’s wrist, piloting them to the safety of the dry and warm apartment. The moment Makoto closes the door behind them, Rin hugs him hard enough to push him against the door with a loud noise.

“I’m so happy, Makoto.” Rin says, face hidden on Makoto’s neck, “I’m so fucking happy for you, Makoto.”

Warm tears are combined with Makoto’s wet but cold shoulder. Makoto slowly envelops Rin in a hug. He can feel himself trembling, but this time he’s sure it isn’t because of the cold in his soaked clothes.

How could he ever doubt of his friend? On multiple occasions Rin had told him and reassured him that they are friends, no matter what happened. Rin has always been loyal, honest, and there to support him - even if he lives in another country. Of course Rin would accept him, even be happy for him.

“Thanks, Rin.” Is everything he can muster at the moment.

Rin bathes first – Makoto lending him some obviously oversized clothes – and then Makoto. When the brunette is leaving the bathroom, with a towel over his head, he’s greeted by the faint sound of jazz music. He immediately recognizes it as Haru’s CD and smiles.

“I’m at Makoto’s.” Rin’s voice distracts him from the music. He must be talking with Yamazaki over the phone. Makoto walks over where he hears the voice, in the living room. “I just had a bath.”

Makoto sits down close to Rin, listening to the conversation.

“A time? I don’t know, it’s still raining…”

“You can stay over, Rin.” Makoto offers with a smile, and Rin grabs him by the wrist again as a signal of acknowledgment and agreement.

“Actually, Sousuke, I’m staying over. The rain looks like shit.” A moment of silence, “Sousuke, calm your dick. My ass is still sore from last time.”

Makoto has to cover his mouth to keep from releasing a very ungraceful noise. Rin hits his ribs with an elbow.

“I’m kidding, asshole. You’ll have me tomorrow, I promise.” More silence and Makoto feels Rin’s body tensing suddenly, “I’m—I’m not saying that!”

Ah, Yamazaki must have requested something embarrassing.

“Sousuke, no—stop, fuck. I’m telling you to stop!” Makoto can place all of his bets on the idea of Yamazaki saying embarrassing and romantic things. Rin has always been better at dealing with sexual teasing and jokes, rather than romantic and cheesy words – even if he is quite the romantic –.

“I’m hanging up, bye!” Rin says with a high pitch and a beep sounds, finalizing the call. “Fucking asshole…”

The other man lets himself laugh freely at his friend’s expense. Soon Rin is telling him to shut up but Makoto can’t resist the opportunity. The laugh feels invigorating and refreshing. Luckily, Rin gives up and joins him in the laughter.

It’s always like this. With both of them together and laughing about how ridiculous the other is.

“Did he… did he say something about your pretty red hair?” Makoto asks, passing the back of his hand near his eye to prevent a little tear from escaping. His stomach still refuses to stop laughing.

“Yeah! He’s been being an asshole with that since that… Hazuki, right? Since Hazuki said that shit.”

“Don’t be like that.” Pushing his luck, Makoto places his hand over Rin’s head and pats him. “I’m sure Nagisa was telling the truth about your hair, RinRin.”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Tachibana.” Makoto just snorts as an answer. “So…”

Makoto notices the immediate change of atmosphere, and suddenly laughing seems to be really out of place.

“Since when?” Rin’s voice is a mere whisper, as if he is unsure if it’s right to ask. Makoto sighs, he thought he would be prepared for Rin’s questions but it still proves to be difficult to answer.

“I don’t know.” He says honestly, “I think… I think since the day after the picnic.”

“Makoto, that’s just one day after meeting him.”

“Yeah, I know! But…” He interlaces his fingers, feelings nervous. “But I’ve been feeling weird since then… and it got stronger when I—“

“When you touched his face.” It isn’t a question, it’s a definitive sentence.

“It was so weird.” A nervous laugh makes its way out of him, “It felt so… so…” He couldn’t find the correct word to describe the sensation.

“Intense.” He says finally. A tingly and warm sensation instantly reaches his fingers, loading his being with a burning yearning. “I didn’t want to stop. And every time he touches me—”

“Woah, there. Touches you?” Rin sounds kind of angry.

“He sometimes touches my hands.” He can’t help it when said hands fret a little.

“And when did you realize it was love?” Makoto shudders at the word. Should he even call it that? Is this actually “love”? They aren’t destined to be, after all.

“I realized it what it was after my date with Nakagawa, remember when I called you about it?”

“I remember. I was so weirded out about it. I still am, to be honest.”

“Well, it was like that.” Another nervous laugh joins the previous.

“Shit.” Sometimes Rin could be really bad with words, “What a busy week you had.” He laughs and slaps Makoto on the shoulder, “So, what are you gonna do about it?”

Oh, no.

“What do you mean?” Makoto almost doesn’t want to ask, already knowing the answer.

“About Nanase, of course! Are you gonna tell him?”

“Of course not!”

“What? Why the fuck not?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Haru can’t see colors!” Rin stays silent after that.

“Oh, shit.” Yes, that’s about right. “I guess… I guess you’re right.” He sounds nervous.

A silence invades the room without permission, like a crawling monster that roams around their feet until it reaches their ears. It’s uncomfortable, like wearing soggy sneakers after the rain.

“But…” Rin starts to talk with a soft voice, like he is afraid of being heard by someone who shouldn’t listen, “What if… you know.”

“No, Rin.”

Rin lets his back fall against the couch and Makoto does the same, sighing along the way. Everything was so nice and now it’s so awkward. Makoto hopes his friend can comprehend why he’s so hesitant to say anything to the artist. Rin must understand, right? It’s obvious that it’s too dangerous to even try something at this point. What if someone discovers Makoto’s love? What would happen in the wild scenario that Haru accepted his feelings? They would be judged, shamed or… or maybe even worse.

A cold chill passes through his spine and he has to gulp hard to be able to breathe again. “Mysterious deaths” aren’t that odd. Since the beginning of time, people have “mysteriously disappeared” only to be found without life weeks later. Sometimes alone, sometimes in couples. Makoto himself would call them “hate crimes”, but society loves to pretend these things don’t happen.

“Makoto.” Rin calls him with the same tone of voice. Makoto doesn’t reply, just pats Rin’s thigh to encourage him to continue, “I always tell you that I can’t tell you what to do. It’s your decision at the end of the day what action you take, but…”

The brunette hears a sigh coming from his friend. Somehow it sounds like resigned.

“Why don’t you give yourself an opportunity?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Makoto can feel Rin shrugging next to him, “You say you don’t want to tell Nanase.”

“Because it isn’t fair to him, I don’t even know if what I feel is real.”

The monster of silence crawls again between them, hissing heavily like a snake about to attack. But the monster never attacks, because it always wants to pass unnoticed, unseen, like a shadow that is able to elongate time and space between its victims. Building an invisible wall that separates the two men who just minutes ago were laughing to their hearts’ content but now look like they committed a horrible mistake.

Makoto doesn’t like this, but it’s unavoidable. He actually didn’t expect Rin to suggest that he should try to do something about it.

“Does it hurt?” Rin momentarily kills the silent monster with his question. Maybe Makoto isn’t fast enough to reply, because the redhead continues talking, “You know… loving him but not being with him?”

A smile creeps on his lips; it’s just a little twitch of his lips but Makoto is sure it tells tons of truths.

“It hurts like fuck.” He says and Rin laughs a little. Makoto swearing isn’t an everyday thing.

“Well,” Rin stretches, and Makoto is able to hear cracking coming from the other man’s back, “The only advice I can give you is that you should keep being close to Nanase.”

Makoto giggles softly and then says, “I seem to remember someone who told me to be careful about ‘horny assholes’,”

Rin slaps him in the thigh and this just provokes Makoto into more laughter.

“To be honest,” Makoto starts to talk, “I really like being with him. I feel like it’s supposed to be like that, you know?” Rin only hums as an answer, “Ah, by the way, Haru invited me to an art exposition next week.”

“He did?” There it is that tone of voice, a voice full of hope for an unknown reason.

“He told me I could invite you guys, and Gou-chan. He sounds like he is planning something big?” Rin snorts at this.

“I’m sure he is.” Makoto can identify the smirk on the other voice. “Hey, it’s 5 o’clock. Have you eaten?”

“No, let’s call delivery.”

 

* * *

 

The heavy rain hits against the window without mercy, yet it has an alluring rhythm that brings a nostalgic air to the room. It’s constant and perpetual, with the casual thunder in the distance serving as a reminder of nature’s power. But all of this does nothing but help the tranquil atmosphere inside Haru’s room.

He’s once again hunched over the desk, and once again he’s sketching. This time, though, he’s feeling more distracted than anything. It has been hours since his visit to Makoto’s place and even if his skin is crawling for more warm contact with Makoto, his mind is rapidly thinking of every single possibility for the brunette’s change of attitude in the last second.

Everything was going smoothly. Haru was being more assertive and “touchy” with Makoto. The Jazz music playing, the two men sitting close to each other on the couch, Haruka’s hand over Makoto’s arm, and finally Makoto’s own hand over Haru’s. The mood was perfect and, out of nowhere, Makoto got up and gave some lame excuse to stop everything.

A line of graphite goes way longer than Haru intends; after giving an annoyed grunt, he grabs the eraser.

Maybe he overstepped Makoto’s boundaries? He seemed content with Haru’s touch on him, even to the point of reciprocating it. But, then again, Makoto must feel confused at what he’s feeling towards Haru, and all the touching may have made him feel weird.

A soft laugh is heard in the room, coming from the artist lips. He blows away the eraser particles and continues with his job.

Makoto feeling weird about the touches makes Haru think of a teenager; when they just discover how good touching themselves can be. If this is the case, then maybe Makoto is finding out how good Haru’s touch feels. Haru learnt that Makoto’s touch feels good long ago; he learnt it when his soon-to-be lover decided to touch his face with those hands of his.

Haru licks his lips unconsciously and gulps to free the breath stuck in his throat. He cracks his neck with a swift movement and yawns away the drowsiness. Staring at the scribbled piece of paper in front of him, Haru sighs.

Should he continue like this? Should he keep pushing Makoto to the border? Makoto doesn’t seem to mind being pushed, and he’ll always step aside whenever he feels it’s too much. And yet—

“He always comes back.”

He whispers like it’s a secret. A hand passes through his black hair, and his eyes travel to the wet, cold window to watch the liquid tears hit against the flat glass. The drip drop sound of the transparent pearls from the sky make for the perfect escort to the saxophone coming from the CD playing behind him. Haruka is reminded of those American old movies that Nagisa loves to watch with Rei, movies telling the stories of detectives, murderers, and women with really impractical dresses that, somehow, are skillful enough to run in high heels.

If Makoto always comes back, that means that he’s interested in what is going on between him and Haruka. It’s the rational and logical thing to conclude, Rei would say, based on the evidence at sight.

His blue eyes go back to the white page with gray lines and senseless shapes on the desk. Haruka glares at the piece of paper as if it’s the one to blame for his lack of inspiration. His conversation with Maeda comes into mind, when she told him how she admires him for his bravery or something like that.

A scoff escapes from his lips before he realizes it. He isn’t being brave, he just thinks it’s annoying to say anything other than the truth, unlike Maeda who now has a really heavy curtain of lies to maintain. He grabs the pencil and the sharpener; his fingers now pretty dirty with the gray graphite.

But, even if Maeda is lying to the whole school, Haruka has to admit how brave and tenacious the girl is for being able to sustain such a made-up story for this long; and not only that, but learning the colors and how to identify the red color between shade gray no. 1 and gray no. 7. It’s extraordinary of her, if you think about it; unlike him who still doesn’t get the difference between the cherry color and the red color.

The residual wood from the pencil falls to the table from the sharpener, usually Haruka hates working on a dirty surface and would immediately clean, but his mind is in another place.

 _“It’s ok, Nanase-kun,”_ He remembers Maeda’s voice at the back of his head, _“I’m not asking you to be extraordinary.”_

Extraordinary.

All of his life he has been called extraordinary for some reason or another; be it for his ability to draw, or for his swimming, or for his cooking, or for anything. It’s a weird sensation, being called that when he doesn’t particularly feel… well, extraordinary. He isn’t, at all, and somehow Maeda’s words now resonate even deeper inside his skull.

Different memories start to travel in his mind; his mother praising his drawings, the coach at the swimming club telling him how marvelous his style is, his father saying what a good cook he is, even his long dead grandmother celebrating his good grades, and – lastly – all of his college professors talking about how wonderful his gray art is. All of them complimenting his best behavior when in reality all he did was… be himself.

The piece of paper on his desk once again steals his attention, but this time the paper doesn’t look as offensive as before. Perhaps he has been trying too hard to excel on this; perhaps all the comments about his art reached a deep place in his heart and got stuck in there, not letting the blood run freely in the veins and poisoning his body without him realizing it, making him forget what is most important.

He is himself, no matter what.

And he doesn’t have to be extraordinary.

All he needs to do is to concentrate on the goal. Why is he doing this in the first place? For Makoto and for him. For them to be together.  For Makoto’s green eyes and for his own blue orbs.

Grabbing the pencil with a new-found force, Haru starts sketching and isn’t going stop until he’s satisfied. It has to be simple but meaningful; it has to reflect everything Haru is hoping for in the future. It has to be destiny.

The pencil finally stills after Haru lets go with a sigh and a smile.

It’s perfect.

Quickly standing on his feet, Haruka grabs his jacket and walks out of the bedroom, determined to get the extra material he will need for the project, but a loud clap of a thunder reminds him of the heavy rain outside. Ah, right.

His thoughts are distracted when strong laughter passes through his wall, actually there are two voices. One of them must be Makoto, obviously, and the other one sounds like Matsuoka. So they are together, maybe that’s what Makoto had to do hours ago, that makes sense. The laughs stop suddenly and voices replace them, but they are so low that Haruka can’t make out anything.

When he’s pondering if the idea of sticking his ear directly to the wall is creepy or not, his phone starts ringing and makes him jump in his place. A red blush covers his cheeks - and a guilty sensation in his gut - while he goes back to his bedroom and picks up the phone.

“So, Haru-chan, did you follow my advice?”

It’s Nagisa. Haruka smiles a little at his friend even if he’s not present. Nagisa decided to call hours later from their last conversation, surely because he was giving Haru his space to think and act on his own. The blond guy looks immature and childish, but he’s always looking out for the people around him.

“Yes.” Haruka doesn’t say anything else; he knows that Nagisa already knows that his advice worked really nicely. Actually, Haru is more or less sure that he fell right into Nagisa’s plan for some reason; he doesn’t know how Nagisa does it, but the blond somehow always gets his way.

“I’m glad, Ha~ru~chan.” His name is sung and it brings a nostalgic sentiment to his heart. It’s been just a week since he moved out from his previous place that he used to share with his friend, but Haru has been so busy thinking about his situation with Makoto that he practically hadn’t thought of anything else for a week straight, not paying enough attention to his other life’s aspects like his childhood friend Nagisa.

“I have an art exposition next week.” Haruka says and Nagisa hums, surely finding the change of topic strange.

“I remember you were working on a piece for that! How is it going?”

The blue-eyed man lies down on the bed and starts talking. It has been a while since the last time he had talked with Nagisa about anything else but his romantic love-life, and the change feels nice. After inviting Nagisa – and therefore Rei – to the art exhibition, Haruka asks the blond about his life; Nagisa tells him about how Rei tried to cook a new cake recipe but totally blew it because he made it “healthier” for Nagisa – which, of course, means less sugar – so the cake wasn’t that good.

Nagisa has always been the talking part of their friendship, and Haruka usually just listens. When they first met, Haruka was just seven years old while Nagisa was six years old; it was recess and Haru was sitting alone as usual until a little boy with gigantic eyes stood in front of him. Since that day, Nagisa followed him like a shadow and would never stop talking, in the beginning it was kind of annoying to Haru – he was more of a solitary type of kid, you see – but with time he discovered that Nagisa’s personality combines really well with his own.

They go together so well that they continue to be friends to this day.

The rain keeps hitting the only window of the room and the Jazz music plays on. Haru’s eyelids start to feel heavy, but his attention to what Nagisa has to say doesn’t falter.

“The other day I met someone really interesting!” Nagisa changes the current topic. Haru just hums. “It was a girl, really pretty! And she already met her true lover; she said he was a guy. But the interesting part is that they met when they were kids!”

That is enough to wake up Haru completely. Since kids? That’s unheard of, of course it’s not impossible but the probability of it happening is almost null. They must have the heaven’s blessings in that case, because there’s no way it was mere luck.

“Can you imagine it?” Nagisa continues, “Knowing your true lover from childhood must be amazing,” The blond releases a dreamy sigh to go with the story. “So you could feel like this since forever…”

The idea of knowing Makoto since kids is a really alluring one. How would their lives be? Would it be that different from what Haru already lived? And not only that, but they would have known that they were true destined lovers since the beginning. Maybe things would have been way easier than in the actual present.

“Hey, Haru-chan,” His name interrupts his wishful thoughts, “Have you ever wondered why humans evolved like this?”

Oh, Nagisa, if only you knew; just about a hundred times.

“Yes.”

“But I guess it’s not that bad, I mean… it’s nice to know there’s someone out there for you, right?”

Haruka honestly didn’t think much about meeting his true destined love. He always felt complete even before finding Makoto, although society loves the concept of “being completed” once you find your destined lover. The media and society are so obsessed with this idea of “completeness” that almost all the romantic genre is about that; never mind a story about how happy a person is before meeting their true destined love and then continue to be happy with their new lover. It’s always the kind same of story: a sad person meets their true love and then everything in life gets better.

It’s not like Haru is being bitter about it, it just seems so unreal of how life actually is.

“I guess.” Is what Haru replies instead, “But you are you even without Rei.”

Nagisa giggles a little before replying, “You’re right, Haru-chan.”

Finding your true destined love is important, Haru is sure of that, but so is being in love with yourself.

“Even if I had never found Rei,” The blond starts, “I would still have you, Haru-chan!”

The expression sounds so honest and truthful that it brings a smile to Haru’s thin lips.

“Even if you left me behind in this apartment like a poor wife with kids.”

The smile disappears immediately.

“Nagisa.” He warns his friend.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Nagisa says while laughing. “It’s ok, Haru-chan. It was thanks to that that you met Mako-chan! And also…” Dramatic pause, “My sex life has become way better now, thank you very much.”

Haruka groans and the blond man laughs loudly again. Knowing about Nagisa’s sex life it’s like knowing about your parents’ sex life, unwelcomed and awkward. Haru doesn’t admit this publicly, but he considers Nagisa almost like a little brother of some sort, Nagisa knows this – even though Haru has never said it – and sometimes he uses this power over him to pull harmless jokes.

“Ok, but seriously, Haru-chan. I hope you have a really good plan for Mako-chan to fall in love with you so you two can get married already.”

Haru almost chokes on his spit, but decides to not give Nagisa the pleasure of another groan from him.

 

* * *

 

“So, Makoto…”

The two college men are sitting on the couch, eating a pizza they called for delivery. Poor delivery guy, having to come all the way here in the middle of a heavy rain and cold wind, but Makoto’s and Rin’s stomachs are really grateful for the delivery guy’s compromise and responsibility.

“What do you even like about Nanase? I mean, he swims pretty nice but he’s so weird.” Rin’s comment makes Makoto chuckle.

“I guess he’s kind of weird—“

“He’s pretty weird.”

“But somehow he grew on me,” Makoto blows a little on his pizza before biting, “I told you, I like being with him. It makes me feel like… like…” Words can’t explain what he exactly feels when he’s with Haru, mainly when it also hurts to be with him and knowing it won’t be forever.

“Like it’s supposed to be like that.” Rin says as if it’s nothing, but Makoto could almost swear that Rin knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“Just being with him makes me feel at ease, it’s easy to be with him. And, to be honest, that’s so weird because he’s so silent, and you know I don’t like silence,” Rin agrees with that with a hum, “But his sole presence is so—“

“Perfect.”

Rin interrupts him and Makoto stays silent. The brunette doesn’t have to see to know that his friend is staring at him with a huge and winning smirk. Makoto leaves his slice of pizza on his plate and grabs his can of cold coffee, drinking a little to sooth the lump inside his throat.

Haruka is perfect for Makoto. Makoto knows that swearing that is ridiculous – nobody is actually perfect – but Haru’s whole being just radiates this perfection and the brunette wants so much to be at his side.

“That’s how I feel about Sousuke. I told you, didn’t I?” The redhead breaks the silence, “Sousuke is a complete asshole, sometimes he’s too much of a jerk, and most of the time he’s so awkward with his own feelings that it’s a pain in the ass; you know all of this, I complain about it all the time.”

Makoto can vow on that.

“But Sousuke is also the one who supports me, listens to everything I have to say and he tries his hardest to work out this thing we have. And I know I can be a pain too.”

The brunette passes his finger over the top of the can in circles, waiting for the redhead to continue to talk.

“But we’re perfect for each other.” Rin’s voice doesn’t quiver, doesn’t even tremble a little when he says that. He sounds so sure of himself that it leaves no doubt that Yamazaki and he are destined to be with each other, it leaves no doubt that they are going to stay together for the rest of their lives.

And, curiously, such certainty sticks a little with Makoto because, for some unknown reason, he also feels like Haruka and he should stay together until the end of time.

Makoto gulps, trying to ease the nervous feeling inside his stomach but it’s useless. Rin apparently reads through him because then he says, “It’s weird to feel so sure about something like this, but I know for sure that Sousuke feels the same,”

A silent pause only interrupted by Makoto’s heart.

“I know it because I feel it every time he touches me.”

A burning sensation starts on Makoto’s hands and expands to his arm, to where Haru’s hand was just hours ago. Makoto’s own hand touches in that place and it feels warm with the memory of a soft touch. Rin doesn’t say anything, but the brunette knows he must be looking at him.

“Must be nice,” Makoto begins, “To find your true destined lover.”

“It is nice,” Rin’s voice is a mere whisper. A hand grabs Makoto by the shoulder, lovingly shaking it, “And this is just the beginning.”

The cryptic sentence doesn’t translate in Makoto’s mind, leaving him confused, but he can’t do anything about it because soon Rin changes the topic to his life back in Australia and how fucking hot the damn place is.

 

The next day, the only trace of the flooding rain is the heavy scent of wet soil and a cold wave of air. The sun doesn’t bring warmth to the people under it and so the skin gets goose bumps thanks to the cool sensation. It’s around 4 in the afternoon, the neighborhood is silent with just a few birds on the trees singing, perhaps a little upset about the wetness of the sky.

Rin and Makoto are going downstairs outside the building. Their steps are muffled due to because of the wet floor.

“Thanks for having me over, Makoto.” Rin says when they get to the street.

“Sure, Rin. Thanks for coming and… you know, listening to what I had to say.” A red color of blush slightly covers his cheeks, bringing warmth to his face.

“It’s ok, Makoto. I’m here for you.” His voice is cheeky and playful; it fills Makoto’s heart with joy. “I’ll be going, then.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the train station?” In the distance, he can hear a door being opened and closed.

“No, it’s alright, I’ll just go and—“

Rin stops talking for a moment, something must have distracted him.

“Well, see you later, Makoto!”

The redhead begins to run away before Makoto can say anything else. Weird. The brunette turns around to go upstairs, but steps coming from them make him stop. Someone must be going downstairs.

“Good morning,” Makoto says when the footsteps stop.

“Makoto.”

It’s that voice that makes his name sound like a prayer. It’s that voice that haunts him and tempts him to ask for more of it. It’s Haru in front of him. Wait, does that mean that Rin saw Haru and that’s why he practically ran away? To leave him alone? That little—

“I saw Rin.” Haru breaks his thoughts.

“Ah, yeah. He stayed the night with me.” Haru hums but says nothing else.

Makoto wasn’t prepared to meet with Haru this day, not that it isn’t a pleasant surprise, but Haru’s perfect voice always makes him lose his breath. Memories of a hand touching his arm creep into the back of his mind, and his hand quickly covers the spot that was touched by the artist yesterday. This soothes his jumpy nerves and uneasy heart. Why is Haru out of his place, anyways? Maybe he’s going to school for something?

“I’m going to buy some things for my art exhibition.” Haru says and Makoto wonders for a second if Haru can read his mind. He sure hopes the other man can’t or he would have to explain why he’s thinking of his soft lips under his thumb.

“Lots of work, huh?”

“Want to come with me?”

The invitation throws him off and causes his voice to get lost in his throat. More memories from yesterday begin to flood his head. Him alone with Haru, Haru getting closer to him, Haru touching him, him touching Haru, talking together and Haru’s whole attention centered on his person. It’s hard to believe how some days ago Makoto was talking over the phone with Rin about how he doesn’t want to be alone with Haru anymore, but now he’s thankful for this opportunity and that it presented itself so soon.

“Yes,” Makoto uses all his self-control to not yell his excited answer, “Let me just go for my cane and we can go.”

He’s smiling so brightly and wide he’s afraid his face might get stuck like this, like his mother used to warn him when he was a kid and made really ungraceful grins with Rin. After a short trip to his place, he’s beside Haru at the bottom of the stairs. His heart is beating loudly and his hands are trembling a little. He’s nervous but at the same time so excited to pass time with Haru, and not only that, but they will be alone.

They go to the train station and ride to their destination in silence. It seems the train is pretty much empty because Makoto doesn’t hear a lot of noise, just muffled conversations of young people telling lame jokes from Internet. But everything else disappears when Makoto feels Haru’s touch on his arm again, Haru’s hand grasping his forearm gently, causing his skin to prickle and all of his senses to become receptive of everything. Suddenly he can feel Haru’s body close to his, and Haru’s breathing next to his ear.

“Let’s sit.” The artist whispers and pulls Makoto’s arm to a seat.

The train begins to move and its vibration lulls the mind into whiteness and nothingness. Makoto and Haru are sitting together, with the dark-haired man still holding Makoto’s forearm; the brunette has the cane between his legs. His heart hasn’t relaxed one bit since the second Haru took him by the forearm, and it seems he won’t let go any time soon. Makoto wonders if people are watching them, but for some reason he doesn’t care that much.

Besides, this shouldn’t be anything special, Gou does this all the time when they are together. It should be obvious to everyone in the train that he’s blind, having the cane in his hands and all.

The rest of the ride is silent until Haru talks, bringing Makoto out of his thoughts.

“We’re here.” Haru stands up, still gripping Makoto by the arm. “I’ll guide you.”

Oh, so this is about guiding Makoto. Makes sense, with Makoto never having been in an art supply store, much less the particular one that Haru is looking for. They exit the train and the train station quickly, and are received by the noise of the big city already filled with people going about their business.

“Take my arm.” Haru says.

That’s new. A red color invades Makoto's face and he hopes it isn't noticeable to the artist. It's one thing for Haru to touch him, but Makoto being the one to touch Haru is another thing entirely.

“I can hold your shoulder, Haru.” Makoto tries.

“It’s easier for us to link arms.”

That much is true. The city is usually filled with lots of people and Makoto could easily get lost if they are going to an unknown part. Makoto is used to his everyday route of his home to college, to some stores in the center of the city and the café he’s been inviting Rin to. So, with a trembling hand, he grabs Haru’s arm, and it seems he’s wearing a long sleeve t-shirt. It’s not the first time Makoto has touched Haru like this – he did it at the pool – but it is the first time Makoto notices the toned muscle. It’s not as big as himself, but Haru definitely isn’t someone out of shape. That’s easy to guess, taking into consideration that Haru has a thing for swimming.

As they begin to walk, Makoto starts to feel uneasy. He has thought that he was used to Haru’s silent demeanor, but maybe the city makes Makoto a little shaky with the fact that he doesn’t really know where exactly they are going.

“Haru,” He decides to call his companion, who doesn’t respond but Makoto knows he’s listening, “Where exactly is this place?”

“It’s close to my school.”

Now that Makoto thinks about it, he doesn’t know what school Haruka attends to. This little trip could be a chance to get to know more about his impossible love.

“What school do you go to?” Makoto asks.

“Tokyo University of the Arts.” The other man replies with his yet monotonous voice.

“Eh? Really? I go to University of Tokyo! They are really close by!”

For some reason he gets excited at the announcement, his hand betraying him and clutching a little tighter than necessary Haru’s to upper arm. If it hurts Haru, he doesn’t say anything. But Makoto couldn’t help it, this new information means that maybe Haru and Makoto has been taking the same train if only at different hours. Not only that, but they could even plan to meet up between classes to eat something together and other stuff that Makoto now really wants to do.

“What a coincidence, right?” Makoto adds, “We could, I don’t know, put an hour and a place and get lunch together…”

Maybe he’s pushing his luck too much, but something inside him – probably the monster that was eating his guts a few days ago – tells him that he should push stronger.

“Sure.” Haruka says and suddenly Makoto feels the other man’s hand over his own, the one who is clinging to Haru’s upper arm. “Sounds like a good idea.”

A pain in Makoto’s face springs out of nowhere because of the wide smile he’s trying to disguise. Haruka doesn’t sound like he’s the touchy type with friends, but what does Makoto know? Nagisa is really clingy and Haru accepts those approaches, right? Maybe a little hesitant, but whatever. Makoto doesn’t judge.

“Did you have lunch before coming?” Haru asks.

As if on cue, Makoto’s stomach rumbles loudly. His cheeks burn with a crimson color at the sound of Haruka trying to hide a chuckle.

“No, I haven’t.”

“We’ll go somewhere to eat after buying my stuff.”

It’s not a proposal, not a question, it’s a decision that Haru himself made and Makoto can’t complain about it because this means that the artist wants to spend time with him. Perhaps the monster in his gut is right about pushing more. What if…

“Of course, Haru. We can hang out all day if you want. I’m free for the rest of the day.”

His heart transformed into a butterfly inside his chest, and it’s fluttering all around his ribcage trying to look for an exit to be free. There’s a lot of pressure in his chest, it’s as if all the world’s hope was painfully cloistered in him, ready to explode with whatever trickle of an answer the recipient of his yearning could give.

The hand over his tightens its grip and it sends an electric shock to his body.

“Sure.”

It’s such a simple answer, one sound said in one breath, but it somehow breaks through his body and liberates the fragile butterfly that was his trapped heart. How would Makoto know that loving someone would feel like this? He doesn’t care if it’s real or not right now. All he cares about is that he’s holding onto Haru, Haru is touching his hand, and they will be together all day. He can deal with the emotionally painful consequences later because he wants to enjoy Haru’s company.

“My school is close to the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum,” The artist mentions, “We could go there after eating something…”

Haru’s voice is a whisper and – if Makoto didn’t know better –  he even sounds kind of nervous, with a slight trembling tone that causes Makoto’s skin to prickle in anticipation. It feels like a light rain caressing his skin, that kind of rain that little kids love to get wet with.

“It’s a nice place… ah, but you–”

“Sounds perfect, Haru.”

Makoto interrupts while wearing a wide smile. He knows what Haruka was going to say, he was going to say that Makoto would find it boring because he can’t see the pieces. But even it that’s true, even if he can’t see the pieces, he doesn’t want Haru to think that he can’t participate in everything. Haru doesn’t do it on purpose, but Makoto would prefer if the artist didn’t think much about it.

“I can tell you how the pieces are.” Haru affirms after a moment of silence, and Makoto can recognize the excited undertone in Haruka’s voice. Makoto finds it adorable.

“Of course, Haru.”

For an instant, Makoto thinks he feels Haruka’s thumb fondling his knuckles, but it’s gone in a second; that second is enough to make him shiver.

“We are here.” The smaller man announces while stopping walking, promptly followed by Makoto.

As soon as they enter, the characteristic scent of paint, turpentine and clay travel to Makoto’s nose, filling his senses. A little bell rings when they enter, the only sound around them besides a distant tick tock of a clock. The place also smells of dust and tired wood, so it must be an old room; perhaps a small store, surely the kind of store that almost no one knows of even if it has been open for years. Perchance Haru has shopped here for years.

His suspicions are proven true when he hears a voice.

“Nanase-kun!”

It’s the voice of an old man, coming from in front of them while getting closer with dragging feet. This man must be old, if he walks like that. Haruka removes his hand from Makoto’s and the brunette promptly misses it.

“Good afternoon, Aoyama-san.” Says Haru.

“Kind of weird to see you around here at this hour… much less with a friend!”

Makoto tenses when he feels the attention in him.

“My name is Makoto Tachibana,” He bows a little, “Nice to meet you, Aoyama-san.”

The old man doesn’t say anything immediately, maybe he’s looking at Makoto and anticipating whatever he has to offer. Makoto hears a stuck gasp come from Aoyama, he must have seen the cane in his hand. A normal reaction he always gets.

“Nice to meet you, too, Tachibana-kun.” He sounds like he’s smiling. It alleviates Makoto’s sudden tension. “So, Nanase-kun, did you come to buy supplies?”

“Yes, thanks. We won’t be a bother.”

Haru walks toward some direction as he pulls Makoto by the arm, who simply lets himself be guided. When they reach wherever Haruka wanted to go, the artist touches his hand again.

“I need you to let go, so I can check things better.” He says.

“Ah, of course, Haru!” He’s nervous for some reason and it’s evident in his voice. He feels out of place in this unfamiliar environment. He releases Haru’s arm and stands still in his spot.

Makoto can hear Haru’s every move. Whenever he takes a few steps away, when he comes back, when he crouches down and grunts when standing up. But words never escape out of his lips.

“When do you have to turn in your piece, Haru?” The brunette asks when he hears Haru is closer.

“In four days.” A clack of glass bottles accompanies Haru’s voice when answering. Maybe paint bottles?

“Four days? That’s so soon! Didn’t you tell me yesterday you were having trouble?”

“I did.”

“Are you going to make it?”

His hands grip the handle of his cane tighter and his eyebrows creases upwards. Isn’t Makoto taking away Haru’s precious time to work in his art? Maybe he shouldn’t have listened to the monster in his gut, maybe Makoto should say something about it, they shouldn’t hang out–

“It’s ok.”

Haru’s voice breaks in his thinking process, and his hand is over Makoto’s. Now he absolutely feels Haru’s thumb caressing his hand.

“You’re thinking too much. If I knew I couldn’t make it, I wouldn’t be here.”

Did Haruka just read his mind?

Makoto sighs deeply with his eyes closed, finishing it with a smile again.

“You’re right. Sorry.”

A last squeeze over his hands and the touch is gone. Haru says that he’s about to finish and Makoto nods at the news. When they get to the counter to pay, Aoyama receives them.

“You found everything, Nanase-kun?” The old man asks.

“Yes, thank you, Aoyama-san.”

“I’m glad! Lately, I’ve been having trou–ah,” Aoyama stops talking suddenly for a moment, “Nanase-kun, didn’t you realize? This is–”

“Yes, Aoyama-san.” Haru interrupts and it weirds out Makoto. His voice sounds like he’s trying to hide something. “I’m going to try something new.”

More stunned silence from both men that makes Makoto feel troubled. What’s going on?

When Makoto thinks that the tension can be cut through, Aoyama speaks.

“Ahhh, I see! I hope it works, boy. Because it looks like it’s going to be tricky.”

“Thanks, Aoyama-san.”

They walk outside the store once Haru pays for his stuff. Makoto grabs him by the arm again.

“What was that?” The brunette asks the artist. He’s really curious about what just happened and about why Haru sounded so secretive.

“I bought something I don’t normally buy.”

“And…” The taller man insists for him to elaborate. Haru remains silent. Makoto sighs, defeated.

“Let’s go eat.”

In no time, Haruka guides him between streets until another smell catches Makoto’s nose attention. It smells of spices, smoke and fish. Ah, didn’t Haru say they would go eat after buying his stuff? This must be another of Haruka’s usual places.

The door creaks as they walk in. The scent of cooking intensifies and Makoto’s skin gets warm from the heat in the air inside the establishment. It’s empty because the brunette can’t hear anything besides their steps to what he guesses is a table. As they sit down – Haru in front of Makoto – a voice talks to them.

“Ah, Nanase-kun! It’s been a while!” This time it’s a woman who welcomes them. Sounds like she’s the typical middle-aged woman with lots of energy and who loves to lead the world. “Have you been eating well? You look thinner than last time you came!”

“I’ve been busy,”

“Busy or not, you must eat, Nanase-kun! Ah!” She gasps at the end, “Is this a friend of yours?”

Ah, this is his signal to speak.

“Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m Makoto Tachibana.”

“Hello, Tachibana-kun. I’m Kotone Mochizuki.” Sounds of clothes ruffling reaches the brunette’s ears, “So, are you going to order now or you’d prefer to read the menu?”

“I’ll have whatever Haru asks, thanks.”

“Are you sure, darling? Haru always orders the same, you know?”

“Is it mackerel?” He asks while chuckling softly.

“Ha! That’s right, Tachibana-kun.”

They agree that they will, indeed, have the mackerel that Haruka desires so, and the woman leaves them alone after that. Sound doesn’t echo in the room, so Makoto guesses it’s because the place is actually small; that would also explain why it feels hot inside, in comparison with the slightly colder air outside.

“Do you come here often, Haru?”

Makoto is dying to know everything there is about the man in front of him. He wants Haru to tell him everything and be close to him. And he wants to tell Haru everything about himself.

“When I started college. It hasn’t been that long, but Mochizuki-san is very friendly… sometimes a little exhausting…”

The last part is murmured loud enough so only Makoto can hear it, this resulting in a laugh. After a while of talking, Makoto learns that Haru is an only-child, his favorite art technique are pencils and watercolors, his birthday is on june 30th, and a lot more. But what surprises Makoto the most is that Haruka answers his questions without hesitation. Not any kind of resistance or defensiveness from Haru’s part, just unadulterated truth and honesty.

His whole being feels joyful with this realization.

The food is good as they eat. It’s obvious why Haruka always comes back to this place because, at least, the mackerel taste delicious; cooked with the right spices and side dishes. They say their farewells to Mrs. Mochizuki – with promises of coming back sooner – and embark on their way to the museum that Haruka had mentioned.

For the entire time they walk there Makoto holds Haruka’s arm, and the artist takes a hold of Makoto’s hand. The silence surrounds them but it’s like a bubble just for them because the city never sleeps. It’s a bubble just for them and Makoto feels like nothing could ever pop it and pull them away from each other.

It’s a weird sensation, being so sure about something that shouldn’t be happening.

At the museum Haruka, as promised, starts to describe the paintings and sculptures in the exposition. Haru’s voice echoes in the vast halls of the building. The descriptions obviously don’t include colors, but besides that Haru is really good at telling Makoto what the art pieces are trying to reflect, concentrating on possible textures, shapes, characters and composition.  

But what attracts Makoto the most is Haruka’s voice. Not only because, as always, it’s perfect but because the Literature student can easily perceive Haru’s fascination for art, although disguised under that eternal monotonous tone he always has.

“The person in it has a dog, its fur is long,” Haru describes the next painting in the room, “It looks soft.”

“Mmmh… I’m more of a cat person,” Makoto smiles, “I still like dogs, though.”

Haruka hums before talking, “I think this is the last piece.”

“How long were we here?”

“Almost three hours. It’s 8:32 PM.”

“Eh?!” Makoto is honestly surprised how fast time can pass when you aren’t paying attention to it. Time is tricky and will always run away from you when you want it to stay. “I guess you describing the pieces took longer than expected…”

Without any kind of warning, Haruka walks in a direction to what Makoto remembers is the exit of the building. The idea that their day together is about to end is kind of sad, but at the same time it’s an unavoidable matter.

The museum is part of Ueno Park, and the humidity of the trees, grass and soil greets them the moment they put a foot outside its doors.

Is it his imagination or are they walking particularly slow?

They have to walk through the length of Ueno Park to get to the train station, they should be hurrying so they can take the train at a reasonable time, and yet…

Haru’s hand never leaves his, and the artist’s walking is so calm and relaxed. Does this mean that Haruka doesn’t mind arriving home late?

Does it mean that Haruka doesn’t want to go home?

The monster residing in his gut wakes up but doesn’t bite, on the contrary, Makoto thinks it’s doing a little dance to a really happy song. What if Haruka wants to stay longer with Makoto? What if that’s why that Haru seems to be so reluctant to walk faster?

“Wait here.”

The center of his affections talks, removing his hand from Makoto’s. The brunette understands the instruction and releases the artist’s arm, who starts walking in another direction. He isn’t far because Makoto can hear him without trouble, and in just a few seconds Haru is back with him.

“Give me your hand.”

Makoto simply obeys the instruction and the softness of Haru’s hand holds his again, but then something is placed in his palm. It’s light, small, thin and it kind of tickles with a feathery-like sensation.

“What is it, Haru?” He asks when he discovers himself unable to guess.

“It’s a flower.”

“You’re giving me a flower?” He can’t help it when he laughs a little. Haru giving him a flower is funny by itself but he can’t wait to hear the reason for it.

“I thought you would like to touch it.” It’s said on a whisper that enchants  Makoto.

“Thanks, Haru.” Makoto says with a smile, using his thumb to carefully touch the flower.

It has multiple tiny petals, it’s a medium sized flower and its middle is fuzzy; the stem is thin but kind of rough feeling with lean leaves. It’s not like Makoto spends a lot of time touching flowers, but he can at least recognize some of them. This time, though, he doesn’t remember this one in specific. But it’s something that Haruka found in a park, that means this must be a wild flower or a weed. Unless Haruka took it from a bush in the park, but Makoto doubts Haru would harm something like that.

“What flower is it?” He finally asks, realizing he doesn’t have a name for this plant.

“A dandelion.”

“Ah, I see.” He opens his eyes, still using his thumb to caress the little petals. “I wonder what color it is…”

“It’s–” Haru stops talking with an audible clack of what Makoto guesses it’s the artist’s teeth. “It’s gray.”

Makoto laughs at this.

“Of course, Haru. Ah, can I keep it?”

“I gave it to you for a reason…”

The hot sensation invades Makoto’s face again, but his lips never cease to smile.

“Thanks, Haru. I’m gonna dry it and use it as a bookmark.” Haruka hums, and he sounds satisfied.

“Makoto.”

The park sounds empty, like the bubble prepared for them has expanded larger, the only movement being that of the trees dancing with the soft wind.

“Yes, Haru?”

“I…”

The artist now seems to be nervous about something, his voice a mere whisper but it resonates in the emptiness of their silent bubble around them.

“I’ll be very busy these next days.” Haru continues talking, “So… I may not be able to meet with you for a while.”

When Makoto was alone in Middle School because Rin had gone to Australia, he had to learn how and when to smile. It’s a skill acquired because of necessity and in no way is it something to be proud of. He had thought that he had definitely stopped using that smile since High School.

“I get it, Haru.”

And yet here he is. Smiling when he has to.

“You’ll be busy with your exposition, right?”

Not because he wants to.

“Yes.” Haruka replies. “It’s only four days.”

“Yeah, four days!”

A smile to show around like a badge.

“Yeah.”

And silence that somehow turned into something heavy.

 

The ride back to their building continues to be filled with that heavy and drowning silence that Makoto hates but can’t shake off. The monster that previously was dancing inside of him now is threatening to eat him whole from his gut. He pushed too much and these are the consequences he has to deal with now.

Useless sentiments of satisfaction that lasted just an evening.

But it’s when they arrive to the building, with the crickets singing their song as background music, that the little dandelion dances in his palm, between his fingers at the nervous fret he is doing. His palms sweaty and his lips trembling, the monster suddenly takes possession of his arm the moment Haruka says goodbye and turns around.

Without thinking much, he grabs the artist by the wrist, feeling how the other man tenses under his touch but doesn’t try to pull away. The monster pushes him even further and Makoto lowers his hand enough so that Haruka’s hand rests within his own.

Haru’s hand is also sweaty and cold.

“Haru.” Makoto calls him after gulping.

“Makoto?”

“I–Haru, I–”

Harder, push harder.

“I really liked being with you today, I–”

He feels so vulnerable and he doesn’t like it one bit. What is he doing? Talking like this when Haruka doesn’t even know what’s going on inside of Makoto.

“I had a lot of fun, Haru. And–”

His other hand, the one with the dandelion, gets warm as Haru takes it with his own out of nowhere.

“I really like being with you, Makoto.” Is what the voice in front of him says.

Only four days.

“I’m glad about that, Haru.” He smiles with eyes closed.

Four days and that’s it.

 

* * *

 

Haruka closes his door behind him, letting himself rest against it while releasing go a deep sigh that comes from the depth of his lungs. His blue eyes are closed but soon open and focus on the white roof over his head.

“Four days.”

Only four days left to finish.

Only four days for him to be with Makoto.

Only four days of not seeing those green eyes and perfect smile.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad and sad to announce that the end for this story is near. 
> 
> I calculate one long chapter or two medium chapters.
> 
> Wow, what a ride.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna thank both [WaterbearCosmonaut](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterbearCosmonaut/pseuds/WaterbearCosmonaut) and [TheTachibanana](https://twitter.com/TheTachibanana) for beta'ing once again.
> 
> Heresmellslikecanon did a whole comic of the [totally-not-a-date](http://heresmellslikecanon.tumblr.com/post/119820009462/chapter-11-color-me-in-love-by-aleishadreams-did) from the previous chapter!
> 
> And Mlim8 did another comic! [Ahhhh, sweet Rin](http://mlim8.tumblr.com/post/115597541868/perfect-color-me-in-love-by-aleishadreams).

Four days.

Four days and three nights.

Four days and three nights of not seeing the green eyes and the wide smile that always pours light in his life.

It should be easy, right? It’s just four days – and three nights – of working non-stop in this project. He has to do it. He doesn’t have time to waste. Four days – and three nights – is just enough time to begin and finish this piece of art.

He just needs to think about the future; what kind of future is waiting for him, how it will look. He has to take strength from these thoughts and remember why he’s doing this in the first place. So his life can be filled with green eyes and wide smiles.

When he told Nagisa about his plan, about his decision of stop seeing Makoto for four days – and three nights –, the blond had expressed concern over the plan. Haru of course understands why his blonde friend would be reluctant. Just two or three days ago Haru himself called Nagisa over the phone to talk about how much the idea of not being with Makoto forever hurts. Nonetheless, Haruka reassured Nagisa that everything would be fine.

Everything will be fine as long as Haruka continues to think about Makoto’s green eyes and his beautiful smile. Makoto being with him for what remains of their lives is what is pushing Haru further with this plan.

That doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard as fuck.

The sun breaks through the window, slowly illuminating the room with a soft light. Dust particles can be seen floating in the air every time they dance in the beam. The cool outside air easily enters the room through the cracked-open window, and it caresses every surface it can reach. The white curtains crowning the window move lazily when the wind blows through the opened glass, as if the wind also wants to dance.

On the little bedside table lies a dark blue cellphone, still until a small, green light begins to twinkle on it. The phone vibrates and the sound interrupts the silent dance, an alarm to wake up and start the day. Although the recipient of the alarm doesn’t move at first, a hand finally grabs the phone, pushing a button along the side to silence the device.

The bedroom once again falls completely still until there’s movement under the bed’s cover.

Haruka turns onto his back. Blue eyes finally open and focus on the white roof above him. He takes a deep breath and the cold air floods his chest. It feels refreshing and vitalizing.

The blue eyes dart to the white wall beside him. He’s met with silence coming from it. His hands twitch under the cover at the memory of him knocking the wall and the man at the other side of it answering his call. Would the green-eyed man reply to the knocks if Haruka did so now? He wonders but pushes the thought to the back of his mind. He needs to focus on the circumstances at hand.

Cold invades his body as he sits and the cover falls around his hips.

 

* * *

 

The room feels cold. The only sounds that can be heard are the distant honk of a car and the singing of some nearby birds. That is until a song invades the otherwise silent bedroom, along with vibrations on the bedside table.

A slow hand moves to the phone, holding it and pushing a button to turn it off, a tired groan following in it’s absence. The room smells of humidity; scent that is probably entering through the window that was left open last night.

His eyes don’t open because it makes no difference to their owner. Instead, he covers them with both hands. For some reason, his eyes feel tired even when he slept without much trouble. Of course, he has to confess that his ears were active for almost three hours before falling asleep, trying to perceive any kind of sound coming from anywhere, especially from the other side of the wall.

Four days.

That’s what the artist said at the park, with that perfect voice of his that he loves so much to hear. That voice that caresses his senses with soft strokes and that fills his heart with a warm sensation that he would give anything to never ever stop feeling. But alas, that same voice gave him that announcement.

Four days of not hearing that voice.

Makoto turns around to face the cold wall that separates him from the receiver of his love, and he touches it. The coldness immediately passes to his palm, reminding him how sweaty and cold the other man’s hand was when Makoto took it.

He knows he’s being ridiculous over something so simple.

Four days.

Haru is going to be busy and Makoto understands that. That is easy to understand. What it isn’t easy to understand is why it is hurting so much inside his chest.

He knows he should just continue with his life as normal. What day is it, anyways? Sunday. Maybe he should call Rin and ask him to hang out.

A memory from the day before yesterday plays inside his head. Yamazaki had called Rin to ask him where he was, and the next day Rin stayed with Makoto until evening. Makoto guesses that idea won’t do, seeing that he would be stealing even more “Rin time” from Yamazaki.

He swallows a lump he didn’t know he had in his throat, removing his hand from the wall.

He has always thought that what Rin and Yamazaki are doing – the long distance relationship thing – is really brave. Makoto doesn’t know the exact story of why Yamazaki didn’t simply follow Rin all the way to Australia – something about Yamazaki’s family – but the thing is that they’ve been in a long distance relationship for about a year.

A smile appears on his lips at a distant memory, a memory of Rin crying over the phone because it hurts so much to not be with Yamazaki. The first two months had been horrible for Rin, even with the texting, skype and phone calls, it wasn’t the same as actually touching the man his heart beats for. Rin said that Yamazaki would offer sweet promises of reuniting as soon as either of them could. Yes, they are in different countries but they aren’t that far away!

Luckily, his friend – and therefore Yamazaki – managed to learn to tolerate the distance just fine. It isn’t that they wanted to learn that, but more like they had to.

The silence of the room is interrupted by a chuckle coming from Makoto.

How ridiculous of him. Suffering because he can’t be close to Haru for four damn days when they aren’t true, destined lovers. Meanwhile his best friend has real reasons to cry and complain, but instead is enjoying his time to the fullest with his beloved. Rin’s and Yamazaki’s pain is real, unlike his.

With the idea of calling Rin dismissed, he wonders if he should call Gou instead, but immediately throws that plan away once he remembers Gou is Rin’s little sister and that maybe she’ll hang out with him.

What about another friend? Makoto of course gets along with a lot of people around him, but he wouldn’t consider any of them his actual friends. They are more like classmates.

“Wow,” he says, somewhat surprised. “I need a life.”

His chest shakes with an honest laugh. He guesses this is what people mean with “college curse”, when college students are so busy with their studies and school work they don’t have time to enjoy life and it's little things, such as friendship. But at the moment Makoto seems to have plenty of time on his hands, given that he still hasn’t gotten up from bed.

Feeling a little guilty, Makoto takes off the covers and stands. The cool air receives him, making his skin itch. He leaves the phone on the bedside table, but his fingertips brush something soft on the flat surface. He picks it up and caresses the softness with his thumb, a smile appearing on his lips once again. It’s the dandelion that Haru gave him last night.

Walking to his desk, he grabs the heaviest book he has and places the little flower between its solid pages. He will flatten the dandelion, drying it, to make a bookmark just like he told Haru he would do. That way he’ll have something to hold on to.

“It should be done in a week or so…” he says to no one but himself.

 

* * *

 

Natural light has always been better to work with. Artificial light coming from light bulbs always distorts the intensity of the tone of the paint, even when painting on a gray scale. The natural light coming from the sun allows the paint to shine with its own power and resources; it isn’t forced like with artificial light. Natural light also works better with pencil as it permits the gray lines to show their potential over the white canvas.

Haru is sketching his final design over the new canvas, gray strokes marking the white surface. His hand moves with ease, like he’s directing a silent orchestra of his own, the lines obeying his whims and instructions without complaint. They whisper softly against the cloth of the canvas as an answer to Haru’s silence. The canvas is well-placed on an easel.

He’s in his room, his back facing the window. This is the only source of light available inside the apartment. He could always go somewhere else – like the school’s gardens – but he can’t risk someone seeing his work, especially since he never told his counselor that he decided to change his submission for the art exposition. He will have to open the window completely when he starts painting, exposing his work, as the paint’s scent will be rather strong.

Maybe he should paint naked, so his clothes won’t stink of chemicals.

A silent smirk adorns his face at the idea.

Maybe the “artist craziness” is finally getting him. Far memories of Michael Angello come to mind, the records of him being a weird guy who wouldn’t take off boots for anything – not even for sleeping – because that would mean a waste of time. Time that he could use to continue painting. In Haru’s case, though, he would be naked to prevent smelly inconveniences later.

It has been about two or three hours since the moment the phone woke him up. He’s already showered and had breakfast, all in the name of concentration for this work. Nothing should or will distract him from his goal, even if said goal is making him tremble and shudder every now and then whenever he feels unsure about it.

He exhales a deep breath, moves his head a little to make his neck crack, and rotates his drawing hand in circles to relax his wrist. Blue eyes move to his bed, already perfectly done, and to the stuff laying on the deep blue duvet. White plastic bags that sometimes ruffle when the chill air enters with enough force by the window.

It’s true that he’s getting somewhat nervous for this project, even if there isn’t anything new about it. It’s just oil canvas, the same thing he has done for almost all of his life. And yet he feels unsettled, like a chill that sometimes causes the short hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. It’s a weird feeling that he hasn’t felt for a long time. An unknown disquiet he can’t quite explain.

Either way, he’s going to finish this piece. And he definitely is going to make this happen.

Taking a last look at the canvas, he decides the sketch is good enough as-is and moves towards the bed, digging through the plastic bag to grab a black tube of paste. His head turns to look at the canvas behind him, unsure eyes caressing the white, flat area of the artistic tool.

This is going to happen, and Haruka is going to be the one to do it.

 

* * *

 

Soft murmurs and ghostly steps surrounds his vicinity. He can hear whispers and hushed voices talking about projects, homework and the casual gossip about that boy that looks like he doesn’t shower enough. The soft turning of old and new pages is also present, along with the soft thuds of leather and cloth hitting the available tables. While air conditioning is definitely on – if the calm rustle coming from the ceiling is anything to go by – his senses are invaded by a dusty scent that brings a nostalgic feeling to the heart. It feels like an evening sitting on a couch, drinking some hot tea with honey, book in hand while the cold rain roars outside, all accompanied by the smooth rhythm of piano and saxophone.

“Tachibana-san, good afternoon.”

An old, familiar female voice reaches his ears. He immediately smiles when recognizing it.

“Fujimoto-san, good afternoon,” he replies, still smiling and turning his head toward the sound of the voice.

They are standing close to the main door, a few steps away from the front desk where Fujimoto-san usually spends the day as the university Librarian. Fujimoto-san is an old lady who is very strict about the rules of her domain. Not a single book is ever misplaced and it’s easy to hear the buzz of a fly with how silent everyone is. But, just as much as Fujimoto-san is a severe ruler, she is also very kind with students in need of help; all she asks for in exchange is that her library stays in order, clean and simply perfect.

Makoto spends a lot of time inside the library, being a Literature student and all, so he has become a regular to the point that Fujimoto-san recognizes him from the hordes of faceless students that come and go everyday. Not only that, but Fujimoto-san has been sweet enough to ensure that books in Braille are always within reach for him. Although the variety of such books is really limited even with Fujimoto-san’s and Makoto’s multiple requests to the college administration.

“It’s weird to see you here on Saturday, Tachibana-san,” she continues talking. Makoto senses the smile from her shaky voice. “But now that I think about it… it’s weird that you didn’t come yesterday. You almost always come in Friday to pick up the books you’ll need for the weekend.”

Makoto chuckles at how observant the old lady is. It doesn’t surprise him at all because this building is her territory and as such she’s always vigilant with a careful eye over everything that happens inside.

“I got busy yesterday, actually,” Makoto says, conversationally. His fingertips burn a little at the memory of cold, sweaty, smaller hands between his own.

And, to be honest, he doesn’t really need anything from the place. He just wanted to be outside his apartment and far away from a certain artist with almond-shaped eyes, long eyelashes and thin lips. His thoughts are interrupted when he hears a gasp from the old woman.

“Busy? On a Friday? You?” She asks. Makoto feels his cheeks burn in embarrassment at the surprised tone in Fujimoto-san’s voice.

“Don’t tease me like that, Fujimoto-san,” he says with a smile and creased eyebrows. “I just accompanied a friend downtown.”

“A friend, huh?” Her voice is hushed.

He gulps, feeling nervous all of the sudden. Makoto doesn’t know where Fujimoto-san stands on the “dating before finding your true destined lover” thing and he wouldn’t like to offend an old lady, much less someone who has always been so helpful and supportive. But she indeed is old and probably thinks that dating before finding your destined one is ludicrous and offensive, to say the least. Besides, it’s not like it was a date.

Even if certain part inside his mind is yelling at him saying that it totally was a date.

“Yeah, he’s an artist,” he continues talking in hopes of changing the course of the conversation, “So we went to buy some stuff for this art project he’s doing. He’s gonna present it in an art exhibition in a few days.”

“Ah, yes,” Makoto smiles when hearing that Fujimoto-san’s voice is back to normal, “Yes, I think I’ve heard about it. In the art school close to here, yes?”

Makoto nods and closes his eyes before Fujimoto-san continues talking, “They do it all the time.”

“I don’t know what his pieces are like, though.” Makoto shares the obvious, “But I’m guessing he’s really good. Ah, he doesn’t even see colors and still decided to go for Arts. Isn’t that amazing?”

“How strange of him.”

He would be offended but he detects no harm in her voice. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t know if this woman is able to see colors; their conversations are usually limited to those of books, school and projects.

“Well, Tachibana-san. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Feeling like he has already stole too much time from the woman, he politely turns down the assitance, telling her that he will quickly choose his book and leave. He goes and chooses one of his favorite to read on his free time. It’s an original tale by some long graduated student of his faculty. He doesn’t know why it’s written in Braille in the first place, maybe the student was kind enough to want to share their story with the whole world, at any case Makoto is deeply thankful and glad because he loves it.

 

* * *

 

The first coat of paint covers the previously white canvas. It’s thin enough to see that some parts of it were covered with several small pieces of masking tape. The paint is still fresh, shimmering against the light that enters through the now wide open window, letting the cleaner air come through.

Haruka isn’t naked of course, but he’s still glad that the paint doesn’t smell as strongly as he had thought in the beginning. So it won’t  be a problem when he goes to sleep later that night.

He’s laying in his bed, giving his back a break. His blue eyes are staring at the ceiling, but he can’t help it when they turn to the wall next to him every now and then. He isn’t sure what he’s expecting to happen, or even if he’s actually expecting something. He just knows that the other side of the wall has been silent the whole day.

Is Makoto outside? Maybe he’s spending time with Matsuoka, or with another friend; who knows? The only thing that Haru is sure about is that the unknown feeling is eating him alive from the inside out. He would turn on his own music but he’s afraid he won’t be able to hear when Makoto arrives.

His lips release a deep sigh that comes from the depths of his lungs, surprising himself with how bored he is.

This is one of the arts’ drawbacks. Painting can be relaxing and liberating, it gives the artist a sense of power and direction while their hand moves in order to translate figures, feelings, emotions, composition and everything else inside their mind, and not only that but the translation must be good enough so everyone can understand what the artist wants to offer with their piece. But painting can also be tiring and slow, good things can’t be rushed or they will most likely fail or simply the translation of the artist’s mind will be full of empty and incomprehensible spots and smudges that no one will understand, making the message lost and useless. Art is a game of patience that Haru almost always is pretty good at playing it, but right now he guesses his mind isn’t as clear and tranquil as it usually is.

He turns his blue eyes towards the canvas. The still fresh paint continues to shimmer and Haruka suddenly feels offended by it, like his own art is making fun of him at how useless he’s being. Stopping that thought, Haruka shakes his head. He doesn’t want to be the kind of artist who ends up hating their work; that just sounds plain sad. Besides, this piece of art is precisely the link that will connect his future with Makoto’s, so he can’t actually hate it.

In the middle of the silence, his stomach lurch out of nowhere, making him groan softly. Grabbing his phone from beside him, he checks the hour. It’s 3 PM. He should eat something. The paint won’t dry any faster with or without him, anyways.

 

* * *

 

His keys tingle the moment he puts them away in his pocket after opening the door to the apartment. Inside, the air is warmer, the sun having heated away the cold of the morning, making Makoto smile in relief. He walks to the kitchen and puts his backpack, and a plastic bag on the table, having decided to buy something to eat before getting home because he isn’t feeling adventurous enough to try to cook.

For some reason his body feels heavy and slow, as if Makoto had run kilometers under the burning sun with no opportunity for rest. But that’s ridiculous. Makoto doesn’t run and never will, he thinks, somewhat amused.

His food of choice is simple enough, a plate of Tempura in which he can distinguish the scent of every ingredient. From the subtle spices in the batter to the unmistakeable smell of shrimp, along with the bell pepper, onion, carrots, mushrooms and much more. The warm steam coming from the dish caresses his face when he leans down a little to smell the scent better. He can feel his mouth watering and his stomach twitch in interest.

Preparing the disposable chopsticks between his fingers, Makoto picks the first bite of his food. The first thing he feels is the hot and crispy batter, stimulating his tongue even further, and when he bites the explosion of flavor invades his mouth. In between the crunchy sounds in his ears, he can identify this as a shiitake mushroom. It’s perfectly flavored with the right amount of black pepper, salt, and a little touch of paprika that leaves a pleasant burning on his sensitive tongue.

He made an excellent choice of food.

“Ahh, this is so good,” he allows himself to say after swallowing. “I wonder what Haru is having...”

Makoto bites his lips at the mention of the name. Even now it seems he can’t go on without thinking about that man for an hour tops. His mind somehow always drifts slowly to the silent presence that comfortably walks by his side when they are together.

The brunette hums, chopsticks lingering on his lips, before saying, “I’m sure Haru prepared something delicious.”

The food slowly disappears from his plate. With his stomach full and a feeling of satisfaction within him, Makoto grabs his backpack and goes to his bedroom to finally flop onto the bed. Picking out his chosen book from his bag, Makoto begins to read.

The book tells the story of a man who falls in love with someone he shouldn’t. Not because they weren’t meant to be – the colored world before their eyes was proof – but because it was a mistake. The man is a man who lived in poverty, forever in debt no matter how hard he worked building fishing canoes. And destiny, as cruel as it always is, made his destined one the daughter of a rich and ambitious old man.

The man and the woman had met eyes by mistake just once, when the young lady dared to look through the small window of her imposing mansion at the top of a mountain. The poor man was walking around the grounds in search of wood for his job when he suddenly felt an urgent need to look up. The book says their hearts were connected in that instant, but with that strong link came a sorrowful feeling of desolation and regret.

People like the young daughter aren’t meant to love truly. They can’t afford to find their destined ones because human ambition is more powerful than any promise of true love. The woman’s life had been decided the moment she was born, cursed to marry the firstborn daughter of one of her father’s most powerful business partners.

Luckily, the book has a happy ending. Even after the marriage of the woman, she and her beloved poor man continued to send secret messages through the wall of her mansion and they conceived a plan to escape. They succeeded and traveled far from the constrictive claws of her father, moving to an unknown island in one of the man’s canoes.

Just when he’s turning one page of the book, a sudden noise distracts him from his reading stupor. A soft smile forms in his face when he recognizes the sound. It’s Jazz music, American Jazz music.

“Johnny Hartman and John Coltrane,” he says in a whisper. It’s coming from the other side of the wall, so it’s just a muffled murmur, but Makoto knows the song well enough to say the title of the song, “They Say It’s Wonderful.”

He in no way is an expert in english, much less does he speak it, but he once asked Rin what the lyrics mean.

“’They say that falling in love it’s wonderful’,” he recites with no intention of singing.

But is it, really? Sure, Makoto feels good and nice but that’s only when he’s with Haru, otherwise he can feel himself becoming more desperate the more time the artist is away from him. He can’t even say for sure if what he’s feeling is actually “love” in the first place, so he wouldn’t know about it.

Will Haru ever find his true destined lover? It’s a painful idea to think of Haru being with someone else. With someone holding his hand, someone caressing his cheeks, someone listening to Haru’s perfect voice. Nothing coming from Haru would be Makoto’s, it would be somebody else’s, and even if he knows it would be the right and normal thing, it still pains Makoto in his chest. The little monster inside his gut woke up with these thoughts and started biting him. Maybe the monster is scolding him for thinking such things.

He groans, tired.

 

* * *

 

Sadly the natural light coming from the window isn’t sufficient anymore, so the light bulb hanging from the ceiling is on; distorting shadows, lights and tones with its artificial power. It can’t be helped, and the artist continues like this even if he doesn’t want to.

Haruka is applying the second coat of paint, careful to cover every single crease of the masking tape. He’s using a wide brush with hard bristles because he wants the paint to have texture, spreading the paint in long strokes coming from the lower part of the canvas to the upper part.

The music playing in the background is the only companion he has, allowing him to shut down his mind and not think about anything while working. The soothing tone of the saxophone helps Haruka to not have meaningless thoughts outside of his work, namely thoughts about certain man with brunette hair and green eyes.

His hand trembles the second he thinks of green, messing up the linear texture he is trying to achieve. He sighs, tired. Thankfully the mistake can be quickly fixed with another pass of the hard brush from the bottom to the top of the canvas. He smiles after that, seeing the error disappear.

Blue eyes divert to the window, catching the hot pink and the cold blue of the sky. The day has almost come to an end and the painting is not even halfway done. Well, he had suspected that much from the beginning, that’s why he asked Makoto to not see each other for four days.

His concentration is broken when his phone starts ringing with Nagisa’s ringtone, coming all the way from the kitchen where Haruka has left it. How weird, what could Nagisa possibly want at this hour?

Haruka gets up and leaves his material over the desk, walking to the kitchen where his phone is relentlessly ringing and vibrating on the kitchen bar. When he picks it up, it displays Nagisa’s phone number on the screen.

“Yes?” Haruka says when he takes the call.

“Hey, Haru-chan! Just wondering how are you, and stuff,” his blonde friend replies.

A warm sensation covers Haru’s heart. Nagisa is evidently worried about his well being even though Haru clearly told him he would be alright this time. He still appreciates the thought.

“I’m fine. Still working on the piece.”

“You know? Maybe I should drop by your place and–”

“No.”

He knows Nagisa is just trying to be a good friend and not leave Haruka to “rot on his own filth in solitude” but what he needs right now is concentration and silence, two things that his beloved blonde friend can’t offer to him even in exchange for money or sweets.

“I’m fine, Nagisa,” he insists, hoping that it will be enough to please Nagisa’s worrywart nature. The blonde hums sadly at him.

“Alright, alright…” to Haruka’s surprise, Nagisa accepts his terms, “Did you really not see Mako-chan today? Like, at all?”

“I didn’t.”

Haruka guesses the phone call will take longer than expected, so he decides to make tea in the meantime, taking out the teapot to fill it with water and put it on the stove, turning it on.

“That’s so weird! When I found Rei-chan all I wanted was to spend time with him… but now you’re voluntarily refusing to see Mako-chan? Talk about weird…”

“Matsuoka and Yamazaki are in a long distance relationship,” Haruka says, the thought coming to him like a bright spark, although he isn’t sure what make him mention it. “Matsuoka actually lives in Australia.”

“Mmmh, yeah, I think you mentioned that the other day. Must be hard, being in a long distance relationship...”

“I guess.”

“At least I know  **I**  couldn’t do it.”

Neither could Haru, but he doesn’t say it.

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do once you declare your eternal love to Mako-chan?”

Haruka looks at the ceiling.

Of course he has. He has always had a wild imagination about fantastic worlds outside this universe that he loves to translate onto paper with his pencil and hands. But this time the imagery is more real, closer, more based in reality of what could actually happen and it excites him just as much it terrifies him.

He can imagine his life with Makoto perfectly. It’s a future full of smiles, gentle laughs, soft touches of hands, and “Harus” from Makoto’s lips. But change is also frightening, especially something as big as this, because everything is always uncertain, nothing is set in stone. Will they move in together? It would be the natural thing to do, wouldn’t it? But what if Makoto doesn’t want to move in together? And if he does? Will they look for a bigger apartment or will they stay in this one?

Ideally, Haruka would much rather stay in his current apartment because it’s kind of close to his school – and to the pool – and moving out sounds like a pain in the ass. So, to prevent his brain from overheating, Haruka just imagines the safe scenarios, the ones with them together, hand in hand, smiling and talking freely about their needs and dreams.

And maybe some kisses now and then.

The teapot’s hiss brings him back from the not-so-innocent thoughts invading his head. He turns off the stove, grabs a cup from the cupboard, drops tea leaves in it, and pours the hot water.

“Haru-chan?” his friend calls him.

“I don’t have time for that,” he lies, not willing to hear Nagisa’s howling and lewd whistling right now. “Actually, I have to hang up.”

“Aww, ok, Haru-chan… just call me up whenever you’re bored! Bye!”

As usual, Nagisa hangs up without letting Haru bid farewell.

 

* * *

 

“Four days, huh?”

Makoto is sitting at the dinner table after feeling a weird sensation, like being pulled to that part of the apartment, when his phone rang with Rin’s ringtone. Rin called to say hi and to talk about his day with Yamazaki – he indeed had spent the day with his boyfriend – but, that conversation done, Makoto proceeded to tell Rin about his  **totally not a date**  hang out with Haruka, and the announcement that they can’t see one another for four days.

“And… how do you feel about it?” Rin asks him, sounding kind of worried, which is endearing to Makoto.

Rin, always trying to act all manly, but is actually soft like a kitten. Makoto laughs at the thought of Rin wearing cat-ears.

“I’m ok, I guess,” Makoto answers without hesitation. “But I admit that it sucks to not hang out with him.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s totes fun.”

Makoto just smiles, used to Rin’s friendly bickering.

“I have this itching feeling, though, and it’s been increasing since I woke up,” Makoto rubs his fingertips together. “Of wanting something but I don’t know what. Like a craving.”

“Are you pregnant and you didn’t tell me?”

“I don’t have a vagina, Rin. I have a penis.”

“Yeah, I know, I’ve seen it. Is it huge as always?”

“Rin, don’t.”

“Just so you know, Sousuke is also huge.”

“Rin!”

Makoto’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. He has never understood how Rin can say sexual things so casually, but will be flustered after saying something remotely romantic; like that time when they were in high school and Rin spent a whole hour trying to explain how the sun makes Yamazaki’s eyes shimmer brightly and then claimed that “it’s not like he pays attention to those details, anyways”.

“So, anyways,” Rin continues talking, “If you get too bored around your house, you can always call me and hang out.”

He appreciates the invitation, and usually he would accept it without hesitation, but something deep in him tells him to reject it this time. The idea of leaving his apartment for long makes the itching in his skin stronger.

“No, it’s alright, Rin. Thanks,” the brunette scratches one of his arms, “I’d rather stay at my place for the time being.”

“Don’t you dare be one of those guys who encloses themselves because of love.”

Makoto laughs before responding, “It’s not that! I promise. I’m fine, but I’ll call you if I feel like it.”

That’s enough to satisfy Rin’s standards of healthy behavior, declaring that he has to hang up because Yamazaki won’t stop pestering about sucking his dick – “Rin, stop! I know that’s a lie!” – so they cut off the call.

Weirdly enough, the pulling sensation directs him towards his room again, where he lies down on the bed, grabbing his book to start reading where he left it.

The Jazz music continues to play without interruption. For a moment Makoto wonders if Haruka is working on his piece in his room while listening to the music. His heart beats faster when he thinks about it, about Haru painting or whatever with the saxophone as his only company; but not only that, it’s also the CD that Makoto personally suggested to him.

A smile curves his lips, red blush covering his cheeks, and a sense of pride floods his chest like warm water. It’s a silly thing, but that means that Haruka pays attention to what he says.

“Haru is really amazing, isn’t he?”

He doesn’t expect to receive an answer but that’s ok because he already knows it. Haruka indeed is amazing, he’s amazing enough to make Makoto fall in love with him even though they aren’t destined to be. Sure, Haru can be pretty simple at times but it’s that simplicity that makes him so perfect. The simple silence, the simple words, the simple movements, everything is so perfect and so amazing. They, Haruka and Makoto, would work wonderfully together with a steady, tranquil rhythm; no rushing because it’s not necessary between them.

They would be simply perfect together.

Makoto’s body feels hot suddenly, realizing what he is thinking, the bashfulness filling his being out of nowhere. He turns around, his back facing the wall, and covers his face with the pillow.

“What are you doing, Makoto?” he asks himself, groaning. “Stop thinking like that.”

But he notices how the smile on his face doesn’t fade away.

 

* * *

 

His back cracks when he stretches his arms above his head, making him shudder at the nice sensation it brings after spending hours in the same position before the canvas.

He takes the cup of tea – already cold – and drinks a bit of it, his blue eyes never drifting away from the painted canvas.

The problem with oils is that they are slow to dry, and Haruka had decided to use careful strokes of the brush for some parts but messy strokes for other parts, so he can’t continue until the paint is completely dry. He’ll leave the window open, maybe like that the dry process will be faster and he can progress a little more in the morning before going to class if he wakes up earlier.

With that last thought, Haruka stands up, leaving his tea cup on the desk when his phone rings again this time with a default ringtone, although it’s not a mystery who is calling.

“Yes?” he answers the call as he grabs his used brushes and walks to the bathroom in order to wash them.

“Are you out of your mind?!”

It’s Matsuoka who is yelling to his ear. Haruka was actually expecting this call, knowing that Makoto sooner or later would tell the redhead about them not meeting for four days, in fact he expected this call sooner.

“Hello, Matsuoka,” he replies instead, feeling like annoying the redhead for a moment.

“Don’t you ‘hello’ me, Nanase! What is this thing about not seeing Makoto for four days?!”

Haruka sets the dirty brushes in the bathroom sink and turns on the faucet, the clear water immediately turning murky with the swirls of paint dancing in it.

“I’m busy.”

“Busy my ass!”

Haruka decides to not comment on that issue.

“I have to work on my piece for the exhibition,” he explains, taking a brush with a hand and cleaning it under the gush of water with his fingers.

“Yeah, I know that,” then why the fuck is he pissing himself? “It’s just that Makoto—“

At the mention of Makoto’s name Haruka turns his eyes up, meeting blue in the mirror, and waits for whatever Matsuoka has to say, but the red-eyed doesn’t continue talking. Haru arches an eyebrow.

“Nevermind,” Matsuoka ends.

“Is Makoto feeling bad?”

If Haru is feeling kind of bad, one can conclude the same for Makoto. Maybe the brunette is feeling sick because of the separation and that’s why Matsuoka is so mad about it. He freezes at the image of a sad Makoto, curling on his bed, without knowing or understanding why he is feeling like shit in the first place.

“No, no, he seems to be fine…” Matsuoka comments, and that honestly relieves Haruka’s heart, but the blue-eyed man senses that there’s something more, something deeper and important, that Matsuoka isn’t telling him and that he probably should know.

He doesn’t ask or try to make Matsuoka talk. Matsuoka is Makoto’s friend and all of his loyalty falls firstly and foremost with the brunette, so whatever the redhead knows about him will remain a secret if Matsuoka deems Haruka not worthy of knowing. Maybe it has something to do with Matsuoka and Makoto spending time together the other day.

“I’m worried about him,” Matsuoka confesses, surprising Haruka with his open honesty so much that he almost drops the phone. “I just want him to be happy.”

Matsuoka’s last line is a whisper that Haruka almost doesn’t catch.

“You know?” Matsuoka continues, “I still don’t like you.”

Haruka feels annoyed.

“I mean, Makoto is my best friend and all, so I guess I’m being protective and that’s it. No offense.”

“None taken,” Haruka pulls out a clean towel from a cabinet next to the mirror. And that’s very much true, Matsuoka can be annoying as fuck when he wants to, but Haruka appreciates the way he’s protecting Makoto. It’s fun to think about Matsuoka slapping away any other suitors that dared to plant their eyes on the brunette, maybe he even asked Yamazaki to keep an eye on Makoto in his absence.

Haruka suppresses a laugh.

“But if it’s with you, Makoto will be fine.”

Haruka almost doesn’t think much of it, but when it clicks on his head of what Matsuoka just said it’s too late.

“See you at the exposition, Haru!”

Matsuoka – Rin? – hangs up before Haruka can say anything else.

What is it with people not letting him talk?

Haruka leaves the phone on the toilet’s tank, turning off the sink’s faucet. The dirty water disappears through the strainer, leaving behind the clean, wet brushes. Blue eyes look to the mirror, carefully studying all the colors Haruka’s face and body posses, the black of his hair, the blue of his eyes, even that smear of paint on his left cheek he plastered there without knowing.

Rin – Matsuoka? – definitely knows something, and he’s enough of an asshole to tease Haruka about it, whatever it is.

His skin begins to itch, a prickle moving up and down his body without rest, so strong he has to scratch his arm. He decides to ignore it for the time being, setting the brushes on the towel and leaving them on the toilet’s cover. Opening the faucet, he cleans his face.

After that, Haruka looks at the mirror again.

It’s the first day of this trial, and Haruka already feels like all of his energy is being sucked out of his body.

 

The rest of the four days – and three nights – pass the same. The sun rises, the moon sets. Haruka goes to school and he works on his piece whenever he can, fighting the urge and temptation to knock on the wall of his bedroom and call the other man’s name.

But he notices something different about himself, something slowly changing, each morning is harder and harder to wake up and stand, and the itching on his skin is persistent like thousands of little ants walking on him, roaming like a silent pest. He can calm the weird sensation by soaking in the bathtub for long periods of time but sadly time is something he doesn’t have that much of.

He sometimes feels like giving in, a small voice telling him to simply go and knock on Makoto’s door to see him, what could it hurt? Just a tiny bit of small talk and that’s it. But his willpower is strong – or maybe he’s too stubborn – and he doesn’t fall into the tempting depths the little voice is calling him from.

So, when he’s brushing his black hair in front of his mirror, saying that he’s about to throw up is an understatement.

He’s wearing a black shirt with a dark blue tie, black dress pants, and black shoes. It’s kind of ironic how he can see color but decided to buy an almost entirely black outfit. When he’s satisfied with how his hair looks, he walks out of the bathroom to the living room where his piece is sitting on the ugly-colored coach, covered by brown paper to prevent it from getting dirty.

Haruka barely finished the piece yesterday, much to his professor’s demise and pain, but it’s completely dry and everything should be fine. It’s the first time he has tried to do something so daring like this, trying to finish something in such a short time, and he hopes it’s the last time because he seriously doesn’t like the slightly dark circles under his eyes. He yawns when he remembers how badly he slept these past nights.

The time he has to be at the art museum is 4 PM, while the exposition starts at 6 PM, but he has to be there earlier to put his piece in place. Just yesterday his professor told him that his piece would be central in the exposition because it’ll be the only one in gray scale, the press knows about this and is really interested in it. The professor said it would make the school look really good because that means the institution can teach to anyone, even people who can’t see colors.

Talk about bullshit.

A final sigh escapes from his lips, his fingers fretting a bit, the tie constricting his breathing. He’s feeling nervous, not at the exposition itself, but what’s about to happen at it. All his hard work is going to make sense in the next hours, and he hopes it results in what his poor little heart desires so, it has to work.

Right?

Gulping down the knot in his throat, Haruka takes his piece, phone, wallet and keys, and walks out of his apartment, feeling heavy and chained.

 

* * *

 

The soft tick tock of the clock makes a whispering song in the silent, and dark room, playing with shadows to look like monsters who will try to eat everything in their path if someone dares interrupt their dancing. But no one is interested in breaking the silence, not yet, not now, because the only person present is way too engrossed in himself to pay attention to anything else besides his thoughts.

Makoto is sitting at his small dinner table, his fingers interlaced, his teeth worrying his lips, and his left leg won’t stop moving repeatedly. He checks the time on his wrist watch for what has to be the hundredth time just to discover that it’s barely 4:55 PM, meaning that it’s just been 10 minutes from the last time he checked.

He groans, desperately, as he passes his hands through his slightly wet hair. He has already showered and changed his clothes for tonight’s outing even though he knows it’s way too early.

Is he feeling nervous? He doesn’t know exactly. All he knows is that the monster inside his gut is throwing a tantrum for whatever reason, maybe the monster is also desperate to go out  **now**. Just grab your things and go to the art museum  **already**. But he has to wait, he has to wait and be patient, because he can’t be careless about this. Nonetheless, the monster doesn’t care about reason, the little monster only wants Makoto to start running to the art museum and meet the artist, to hear him say his name with that voice of his.

The itching reappears when he thinks of Haruka’s voice, and Makoto has to scratch his neck. The weird sensation has been coming and going during these few days of solitude. He didn’t spend the four days in his apartment like some kind of locked-up princess, he still went outside to do his stuff and go to school, and the itching would go away during those moments his mind was busy, but as soon as he remembered the artist he had this desire to scratch his arm or neck.

He’s not going to lie, a few times he was so tempted to go to the other man’s apartment with any stupid excuse to just meet Haruka, but he stayed true to his word and didn’t bother the artist while he worked.

But now, finally, tonight the waiting will end. He will be able to be with Haruka, to hear him call his name and to say his name in return.

Knocks coming from the door alert him of someone arriving at his place. Weird, he isn’t expecting anyone. What if…

He immediately stands up, turns on the lights, and opens the door with a big smile.

“Hey, Makoto!”

Rin’s voice greets him when he opens the door. Makoto feels a little disappointed, but he still smiles to his friend, closing his eyes.

“Rin, hello!” he says, moving away from the door so Rin can enter.

“Sousuke is also with me, but you know him, always keeping it cool.”

Makoto hears a pat, probably Rin hitting Yamazaki on the back.

“Hello, Yamazaki.”

“Hey,” Yamazaki answers.

Why are they both here? Makoto doesn’t remember planning on going as a group to the exposition. Or maybe they did? He has been kind of out of it lately.

“Ah, I see you picked out your date clothes, nice.”

Makoto blushes deeply at Rin’s words. He’s wearing the same outfit he wore when he had that double date with his classmate and Nakagawa. No, these aren’t his date clothes! He just wants to look nice, is that a crime?

“These aren’t ‘date clothes’, Rin!” Makoto tries to argue, though he knows it’s a lost cause against Rin, “These are my formal clothes, we’re going to an exhibition to a museum, in case you don’t remember–”

“Wait,” Rin once again interrupts him. Makoto hears him getting closer, and suddenly the redhead is sniffing his neck. “Shit, you even put on cologne. Are you trying to impress someone?”

The teasing tone in Rin’s voice makes him flustered and hot, the burning sensation of his cheeks spreading to his ears. Ok, he admits that he probably spent a little too much time fixing himself because he’s about to meet Haruka after not being together for what felt like centuries, but Rin has no business teasing him for that.

“Why did you even come?–To my place,” Makoto asks, correcting immediately when he guesses that Matsuoka Rin will not waste an opportunity so grand to make a nasty joke.

“We came for you, obviously! So you don’t have to arrive alone to that place and make an embarrassment of yourself,” Rin says as he slaps him in the shoulder. “Now, grab your stuff because we’re going. Gou will be pissed if we make her wait any longer.”

Makoto obediently grabs his cane. Everything is going too fast for him now, which is funny because just minutes ago he was feeling like time had stopped. It doesn’t matter, anyway, because now he’s sitting in the backseat of a car on his way to meet Haruka.

Rin and Yamazaki are talking in the front seats, something about Rin’s upcoming flight back to Australia, and what a pain in the ass it will be to return to that horrible hotness. Ah, that’s right, Rin is leaving in just a few days; Makoto thinks it’s in about three days? But he isn’t sure. A guilty feeling comes over him. He has been so focused on his own silly love business that he practically forgot about everything else.

“Ah, we’re here!” Rin announces, excitedly, opening his door. Makoto follows him, closing the door behind him and gripping his cane’s handle tightly.

Makoto promises himself he’ll spend more time with Rin after this.

“Let’s enter,” Yamazaki’s deep voice is heard, “Gou had said she would wait inside.”

With that, the group of men enter the building. The fresh air coming from the air conditioner immediately washes away Makoto’s nerves, leaving him with a calm sensation inside of him;, he’s in control again. He guesses it’s because the museum reminds him of Haruka, of their hang out together and the time they spent in this same building.

Where is Haruka?

“Mako-chan!”

A joyful voice calls him, with the energy of a galaxy that just exploded and expanded within the fire of their heart. It’s Nagisa, who must have spotted him in the sea of people.

“Nagisa-kun! Please be more quiet!”

But Nagisa ignores Rei in favor of walking towards Makoto’s group.

“We were waiting for you!” Nagisa says, a smile clear on his merry voice, “We found Gou-chan, by the way.”

“It’s Kou!” the young girl claims, but sighs at the end. “Makoto-senpai, I looked for Nanase-kun’s piece but I couldn’t find it.”

“Now that you mention it, Gou-san, I haven’t seen him either,” Rei says with his ever analytical voice, “Do you know anything about this, Nagisa-kun?”

“Mmmh… no, I don’t.”

Weird, where could Haruka be?

He gets his answer when he feels something behind him. A silent presence that doesn’t even touch him but that Makoto can feel caressing his heart with a soft touch. Makoto turns around, smiling widely, and without any doubt he calls the name he’s been dying to say.

“Haru.,”

“I’m here,” the perfect voice says.

“I know,” Makoto replies.

He has so much to talk about with Haru, so many questions and stuff that happened when they were away. He also wants to touch Haru’s hand like he did that night in front of their apartments, he wants to enter a bubble just for them and let the world disappear because nothing else matters right now.

“Haru-chan!”

But that doesn’t happen. This time there’s no bubble for them to get away, to escape, so Makoto has to share even though he doesn’t feel like it at the moment.

A grunt coming from Haruka makes it obvious that Nagisa threw himself on the young man.

“Haru-chan, Rei-chan, Gou-chan and I didn’t find your piece. Where is it?”

“It’s going to be opened in the inauguration,” Haruka answers.

“Huh, so you really are hot stuff, then?” Rin asks, his voice sounding actually surprised. Haruka doesn’t reply to the provocation.

“Please, enjoy yourselves. I have to go now for the presentation.”

Haruka walks away, leaving the group alone. That was fast, but Makoto understands that Haru must be busy with everything.

“Ah, then Nanase-kun’s piece must be the one we saw covered by that cloth,” Gou says, Rei agrees with her.

“Let’s go there,” Rin suggests while starting to walk. Gou takes Makoto’s arm to guide him through the crowd without any problem.

They enter a room where the noise is louder, lots of people murmuring between themselves, Makoto hears Haru’s name once in awhile. Some people comment on being so interested in Haruka Nanase’s piece because it will be the only one in the whole museum to be in grayscale, other people say that they can’t wait to see the elegance of Haruka’s artwork, and other people – probably from the media – are speculating what the artist will present.

“Woah, there’s a lot of people…” Gou comments with a whisper.

“Yes, Haru-chan’s work is really good,” Nagisa says, clearly proud of his friend’s talent.

“It’s about to start,” this time is Yamazaki who talks, finalizing the conversation with that.

Makoto hears a few taps on a microphone, someone clearing his throat, and finally a male voice through the device. This works to silence the crowd around them.

“Hello, and welcome!” the man says. He sounds like a middle-aged man who sometimes talks too much about stuff he doesn’t understand completely. “I want to thank you all for coming to this exhibition. As some of you know, this has become a tradition of our school and this museum.”

Is the man standing on a stage? Is he alone? Is Haruka with him? Where is Haru and what’s his piece about? Makoto wants to know so badly. What did Nanase Haruka make with Jazz as his only companion?

“Tonight is the second exhibition this young artist has participated in with us, and it’s such a pleasure and an honor to present to you his newest artwork.”

The room begins to politely applaud, that kind of applause that feels like a gentle “please, be quiet” when the speaker won’t stop talking.

“Nanase Haruka is a young man that decided to take life into his own hands, even though life itself is against him because, as some of you know, this young artist isn’t able to see colors.”

Makoto feels uncomfortable.

“So now, Nanase-san, would you please do the honors?”

Haruka is in fact with the man. Gou had mentioned something about a cloth, is Haruka going to uncover his piece?

The soft sound of thread being pulled fills the room, along with the mechanical noises of the flashes from the reporters surrounding them.

And then, gasps and silence.

“It’s in!...” Makoto hears Gou whispering.

“Haru-chan!” Nagisa sounds scared or worried, Makoto can’t decide which is worse.

When he’s about to ask what is happening, he’s pushed aside by someone, then the whole crowd is trying to get closer to the center of the room.

“Nanase-san! Is this a complaint against the ideal love?”

What?

“Nanase-san! Please answer! Does your piece represent society’s political views about love?!” It’s a woman asking.

What are they saying?

“Nanase-san, Nanase-san! Are all of your pieces going to be in color from now on?!”

Color? That’s absurd, Haru can’t see col–

“Nanase-san, my name is Kimura Akira from Tokyo University Newspaper! Does this mean you found someone?!” A man asks.

The air is insufficient in the room for Makoto. His lungs aren’t working perfectly and suddenly the place feels too small for him, and everyone is moving too much around him, pushing and shoving and getting in the way, burning Makoto with every touch and every word that they spit from their mouths.

 

* * *

 

Haruka pretty much expected this reaction. Everyone would flip their shit the moment he revealed his piece and that’s exactly what happened. He just saw the reporters trying to get closer to him, to the small stage that elevates him from the crowd. Blue eyes turn to look at his professor, who is still staring at his piece with a gaping mouth, the heavy glasses almost falling from the tip of his nose. Haruka wonders for a second if the professor is mad at him for lying.

He then looks to his masterpiece. A tiny smile appears on his lips, proud.

His piece is in colors.

Two simple colors that represent everything he’s hoping for in the future.

Green and blue.

With a satisfied sigh, Haruka gazes away from the art piece, now turning his eyes to the moving sea of people to look for a pair of green eyes.

But his heart stops when he doesn’t see green in the crowd.

Instead of that, he finds red hair moving around rapidly. It’s Rin who is frantically looking around, but he is not alone, Nagisa, Rei, Kou and Yamazaki are doing the same.

Where is Makoto?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see in the story description, the next chapter will be the last.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna thank both [WaterbearCosmonaut](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterbearCosmonaut/pseuds/WaterbearCosmonaut) and [Mienaihane](https://twitter.com/mienaihane) for beta'ing!
> 
> Marinoxxycontin made a really nice fanart of [Haru](http://marinoxxycontin.tumblr.com/post/130872482235/i-finally-finished-my-fanart-for-chapter-11-of-my)!!

It’s called an “out of body experience” whenever someone feels as if they aren’t in control of their body, removed from whatever is happening around them because their mind isn’t aware at the moment, their person not connected with their five senses. It’s supposed to only last seconds, a mere blink of an eye, before the brain finally regains conscience with enough time to understand what is going on; although, for the people suffering from this experience, it feels like an eternity with time slowly – unnecessarily – dragging every minute, every lasting second.

For Haruka, the next few seconds pass way too slowly.

He remembers going down the stage, brushing past a crowd of reporters asking too many questions about his personal life. He remembers his professor calling his name to come back to the stage, but he ignores it and continues walking, surfing the sea of people trying to attract his attention. He remembers fire, coming from crimson eyes centered on him, burning him to his soul with a heated passion.

He remembers Rin taking him by the arm and pulling him, dragging him away from the crowd, from the room, from the museum, followed by Nagisa who is yelling at Rin to stop manhandling him like that. But Rin doesn’t stop, not even when they are outside and far from the museum, with his grip strong and merciless on Haruka’s arm. The black-haired man can barely hear Kou calling out to her brother, asking him why he is doing this, telling him that there’s no time for this, that they should go look for—

“Makoto,” his lips say in a whisper. His blue eyes finally focus and look around him. They had finally stop in an isolated area of the park.

Nagisa is being held back by Rei, trying to break free from Rei’s arms, his pink eyes tearing with rage, looking directly at Rin while yelling at him. Kou is close, her tiny hands grabbing Rin by his clothes from behind, urging him to stop whatever he is doing. Yamazaki is just behind her, his face unreadable but his fists clenched tightly. And, finally, Rin Matsuoka is in front of him.

His eyes are on fire, rage and anger feeding the flame wildly, looking at him with such concentration it causes Haruka to gulp hard.

“What the fuck was that?!” Rin demands to know, pulling him from the neck of the shirt. His voice is brimming with fury. “That was your fucking plan?! Look what you’ve done!”

“Don’t touch him!” Nagisa yells from a side, his voice is breaking.

“Matsuoka-san, please stop this!” Rei calls him.

“Brother, we have to look for Makoto-senpai! Just leave him alone!” Kou tries to convince the redhead, but Rin’s grip on his shirt only gets stronger.

“Why the fuck did you think this was a good plan?! Don’t you know anything about Makoto?!”

Haruka doesn’t answer. His throat is dry and stuffed with a heavy knot full of panic and regret. He’s afraid that if he dares speak his voice will shatter in a million pieces that he won’t be able to put back together.

“Rin,” a deep voice calls the redhead; it’s Yamazaki, who also puts his big hand on Rin’s trembling shoulder. “We need to go now. Tachibana needs you.”

Suddenly the fire on Matsuoka’s eyes looks less threatening. Suddenly the anger and rage is replaced by worry and concern. Suddenly the red color doesn’t burn anymore, doused by crystal tears rolling down Rin’s cheeks.

“I’ve should have known,” the redhead says with a more calm voice, but still full of constricted emotion. “I’ve should have known this was a fucking mess.”

Rin pushes Haruka one last time before releasing his punishing grip.

“Don’t you fucking dare near Makoto,” Rin tells him before turning around and walking away, followed by Yamazaki. Kou lingers for another second, looking at Haruka with worried eyes and then at Nagisa – who stopped moving when Rin’s tears fell – and Rei. After that, Kou follows her brother without another word.

The blond immediately runs to his side, hugging him with inhuman force, crying again.

“Haru-chan, are you alright?!” Nagisa asks.

“Are you hurt, Haruka-senpai?!” Rei adds.

Haruka, again, doesn’t answer, looking at both his friends’ faces. Nagisa’s cheeks are wet and red, and his whole body is trembling just like Rei’s. But, to be honest, Haruka is also trembling although he doesn’t know why.

“Makoto,” he whispers. The pink eyes of Nagisa widens when he hears him.

“We don’t know where he is! He suddenly disappeared when your piece was revealed!”

“We lost him when the reporters started to crowd around us,” Rei explained, “A lot happened all at once, none of us know when he went missing.”

“We need to find him,” Haru says, breaking free from Nagisa’s hug.

“Yes! Let’s look for him!”

“It would be better if we go separate ways,” Rei suggests. “To cover more area.”

Nagisa takes Haruka’s hand, calling his attention, before speaking with a worried tone. “Are you going to be okay, Haru-chan?”

Haru doesn’t understand why Nagisa is asking him that. He isn’t the one lost, it’s Makoto. He isn’t the one who needs to be found, it’s Makoto.

Still, he nods in silence.

They separate after that. The park isn’t that big to begin with, so Makoto shouldn’t be that far away. There’s always the possibility that he already returned to his apartment, but Haru decides to leave that option for last. They have to find him now because Makoto doesn’t know the area; Haruka didn’t bother to tell him much about what or where to go with exact detail when they were here few days ago and, being blind, it could be very dangerous for Makoto to go alone.

Haruka runs and runs, demanding his legs to work longer, to go faster, but soon he’s struggling to keep the pace when his lungs burn with the need for oxygen. Kilometers and kilometers of concrete benches, surrounded by thousands of tall and dark trees that seem to look down at Haruka with pity, feeling shame for his sorry state.

“Don’t you know anything about Makoto?!”

Rin’s voice echoes on his mind like a hot dagger behind his skull, the red blood slowly dripping from the wound to stain his hair and skin.

Yes, of course he does. He knows Makoto. Makoto is gentle, warm, calm, with green eyes full of life. Haruka knows Makoto. The question offends him. How dares Rin to ask such a thing?

But, then, why didn’t he know Makoto would do this?

He stops running to let his lungs breathe in much needed air, taking in big gasps of oxygen that fill his chest painfully. Big drops of sweat slide down his forehead. His shirt clings uncomfortably to his body and his tie suddenly feels way too tight around his neck.

Does he know Makoto?

People walking on the park stare at him, wondering why this young man looks so distressed but not doing anything about it.

When Haruka looks around, he finds himself in the clearing where he had given the dandelion to Makoto. The park is full of people thanks to the exhibition, it’s no longer quiet and peaceful like it was four days ago. Haru feels a weird sensation twitch in his chest, like a possessive part of him wants to drive away the other people stepping on their dear place.

The rational part of his brain reminds him that this place isn’t his, just like it reminds him that he, indeed, doesn’t know Makoto. At all.

It’s been only two weeks. Fourteen days. Two weeks since he met Makoto. How the fuck does he thinks he knows Makoto? Sure, he knows the basics, but the brunette is still a mystery for him. Did they even really talk about stuff? More than superficial stuff?

And, if he didn’t know Makoto would react like this, it’s evident that Haruka doesn’t know Makoto well enough.

What was he thinking? Now that he mulls the plan over, it was a horrible idea! For two weeks Haruka tricked Makoto into thinking that he wasn’t able to see colors, but still said promises of being with him forever, of course Makoto would react like this if he’s in—

His heart is beating so loudly that he can’t hear anything else, not the hustle of the park, not the little kids running, not the vendors trying to sell their goods.

Is Makoto in love with him?

His hands are trembling again the moment he takes out his phone, looking for the number he wants: Rin’s.

How didn’t Haruka see it before?

He chooses the number and calls, putting the phone in his ear, praying to receive an answer.

In retrospect, it’s so obvious! Makoto allowed him to get close, closer and closer each time. He allowed Haruka to touch him, to talk to him. Makoto always looked for a way to be with him.

Haruka bites his lip when he’s sent to voicemail. He should have known. Surely Rin hates his guts right now and doesn’t want anything to do with him. Haruka doesn’t blame him.

Haruka doesn’t find Makoto that night. Neither does Nagisa or Rei.

 

As time continues to pass without regard for humans’ hearts, he feels the itchy sensation overwhelming his body, a persistent yearning coming from the obscure fathoms of his chest. Like dark acid traveling through his throat to slowly melt and dissolve what is inside of him. And that worm, that tiny worm with gigantic teeth, is running freely under his skin, biting and munching his flesh to feast from him.

It’s been a week since the last time he heard anything from Makoto.

He doesn’t know what hurts more: the eternal silence coming from the other side of the wall, or the mute emptiness he gets whenever he knocks on it.

That night – that fateful night – Haruka, Nagisa and Rei returned to the black-haired man’s apartment, high hopes soon crushed when they didn’t find Makoto at his place. Nagisa and Rei spent the night with him, and none of the three slept at all; drinking coffee, checking Haruka’s phone, going to knock on Makoto’s door, all in hopes of getting news about the brunette’s whereabouts.

But nothing came their way.

The next day once the sun rose and the birds started to sing, Nagisa insisted on taking Haruka with them to not leave him alone, but the artist declined. He had to stay in his place in case Makoto came back. Nagisa and Rei left him behind with promises to call.

From then on, Nagisa calls Haruka every day. From then on, Haruka doesn’t leave his phone unsupervised. From then on, Haruka doesn’t leave his apartment.

His stomach is a mess, twitching and twisting painfully. His skin burns so much that not even the reliable water helps him calm the heat.

Sometimes he wonders if Matsuoka — it doesn’t feel correct to call him “Rin” anymore —  found Makoto. Haruka calls Matsuoka every day and every day his call gets rejected. At these moments Haruka deeply regrets having never asked Makoto for his number; he’s sure that the brunette would have answered him.

Right?

Haruka is sitting on the train, waiting for his stop, his blue eyes fixated on the metal floor without a real focus. His hands hold a piece of art covered with brown paper. It’s the piece he presented a week ago in the exposition. His professor called him and asked him to please retrieve his piece because the exposition is finally over.

He doesn’t read the newspaper, so he never read what the press had to say about his piece, or about his brusque exit when he was dragged by certain redhead. But Rei does, and one of the days the blonde called him he told Haruka the headline.

“GRAY ARTIST FINALLY SEES COLORS: End of an Era?”

The note talked a little about his trajectory as the “gray artist”, and on how brave – and oddly weird – he was for entering the University of Arts while not being able to see colors, but that finally he would be able to appreciate real life and make real art now that he can see the rainbow, like every decent artist. The press tried to interview him multiple times over the next few days, but finally stopped asking when Haruka plainly rejected every single one of them.

Suddenly he’s no longer special.

His classmates started to ignore him or treat him like they treat everyone else. The teasing and the bullying stopped altogether to be replaced by indifference or just whispers. Murmurs of who could be Nanase’s destined one, murmurs questioning how long Nanase was able to see colors, and why didn’t he say anything.

The female voice from the speaker announces the next stop. Haruka lazily stands up, holding his piece securely against his chest, and walks close to the door to wait for it to open.

Tokyo is always full of people and this day isn’t any different. The door is crowded when it opens and Haruka has to be quick to prevent the waves from people dragging him back inside the train car.

The sun is bright and it hurts Haruka’s eyes when he’s outside the train station. The blue sky is as blue as ever, spotted with white clouds that don’t help against the sun. It would be better if it started to rain suddenly, refreshing the people and their minds; also it would help to destroy his art piece.

It’s not like he hates the piece — actually he likes it very much — but right now he can’t help it but feel it was a huge mistake.

When he turns around the corner, a sound pulls his attention to the top of a wall, and he is met by a pair of icy blue eyes. It’s the white cat that Makoto used to pamper and talk with in the street, sitting at the top of the wall while slowly moving its white tail. The animal looks at Haru’s own blue eyes, and meows.

The white cat hops down the wall and walks towards Haruka, rubbing its body on Haru’s legs while purring. The black-haired man crouches and pets the cat.

He has been feeding the cat all this week, guessing that he should because Makoto isn’t there to do so, and that’s why the animal quickly took a liking to him. He always feeds it the best mackerel, after all.

Haruka continues his way to his building, going upstairs and pausing in front of Makoto’s door, staring at it for a moment. Every day he knocks with the wishful hope that he would get an answer, but the door never opens and he never hears a voice coming from inside.

So, today, he won’t knock this time.

He walks to his door, taking out his keys, when the next door opens.

“So I told my brother that—“

The girl stops talking when she discovers she’s being observed by surprised blue eyes. It’s Kou, her red hair in a ponytail, carrying some books on her arms. And just behind her stands Yamazaki, always tall and threatening, watching him with narrowed eyes.

The scene continues in silence for a while, until Kou clears her throat.

“Uhm, hello, Nanase-kun,” she says awkwardly but still smiling politely, “How have you been?”

“Where’s Makoto?”

He knows he is being rude but right now he doesn’t care. All he wants to know is where Makoto is, and Kou and Yamazaki must have that answer because they are right here, coming out of Makoto’s apartment, with the keys that Makoto must have given them.

Kou seems to be taken aback by his sudden question, blinking her eyes. “I can’t tell you,” she says.

Haruka feels angry. Why can’t she? Haruka is sure that Matsuoka has something to do with this, surely the redhead gave instruction that Haru should not be permitted to contact Makoto before he left to Australia. His blue eyes divert for a moment to the teal ones of Yamazaki, who hasn’t stopped watching him intensely. Then, the teal-eyed man speaks.

“You go ahead, Gou,” he says, looking at the girl in question.

Kou looks at him, puzzled, but obliges after giving Haruka a last look over. Her ponytail moves with the wind and her steps when she walks away and disappears when she turns left to go down the stairs.

“Rin told me everything,” Yamazaki begins, his voice deep and serious, “About you and Tachibana, and the two weeks thing.”

Yamazaki is carrying a box, it looks heavy but the taller man is able to carry it with just a hand, the box leaning on his hip for support because in his other hand are some keys that Haru recognizes as Makoto’s, if the cat keychain is evidence enough.

“Rin is very protective of his loved ones, sometimes too much, and would do anything and everything for them. People tend to think he’s rude or annoying because sometimes he’s too intense about things.”

Haruka feels a kind of déjà vu feeling. Makoto once told him the same about Rin.

“But,” Yamazaki continues, “He would never tell others what to do. Well, no. He does, but somehow it doesn’t sound like an order, anyways…” the man shrugs at his last line, looking away for a second. “What I’m saying is that Rin is not the one who asked us to not let you go near Tachibana.”

A rock gets stuck in Haru’s throat, it’s dry and painful. If Matsuoka wasn’t the one to order this, then that means…

“Tachibana told us to not tell you.”

His hands tremble around his piece, and Haru can feel his knees doing the same. His stomach twitches painfully, nausea growing stronger and stronger the more time Haruka looks at Yamazaki’s serious, teal eyes.

Why would Makoto do that?

“It’s probably because Tachibana doesn’t want to be a bother to you. You know, since he is in love with you but you see colors and he can’t.”

Even Yamazaki knows that. Even Yamazaki was able to conclude that. It’s pretty obvious that with his ridiculous plan of the exhibition this would happen. Makoto is trying to get away from Haruka so Haru can be happy with his “destined one”, without Makoto’s interruption. Always so self-less, that Makoto.

“I have Tachibana’s number, if you want it.”

His heart pumps rapidly at Yamazaki’s words. Of course he wants the number! With it he will be able to mend things with Makoto and everything will go back to normal in no time! They’ll be together and happy, and they’ll leave this misunderstanding in the past. When Haruka is about to answer, Yamazaki interrupts him.

“But are you really ready to face Tachibana?”

Haruka’s mouth closes at the question. Is he? What could he possibly say to Makoto to try to excuse himself? Would Makoto believe him? How would Makoto react? Haruka doesn’t have any idea and his heart is full of convoluted doubts and questions.

“You should think it over, before anything else,” Yamazaki says as he takes out his phone from his jeans’ pocket.

Haruka copies the number into his own phone, staring at the black digits in the screen before typing “Tachibana Makoto” in the space for the name.

“I have to go now,” the taller man says, putting the phone back in his pocket.

When Yamazaki is about to turn away, Haruka calls his name, stopping him.

“Why…” Haruka begins, “Why are you helping me?”

The teal eyes stare at him for what it feels like a long moment, making Haruka nervous of the probable answer.

“I don’t like it when Rin is away,” he replies, confusing Haruka along the way, “It feels like shit when he isn’t here.”

What does that have to do with anything at all?

“But that’s just the way things are. We can’t do anything about it, and we both have accepted that,” Yamazaki once again shrugs, looking away, “I think what you and Tachibana are doing is just plain stupid.”

Haruka would punch Yamazaki but he knows the teal-eyed man is right – that and that Yamazaki could probably kill him without breaking a sweat.

“I mean, why didn’t you just tell him, Instead of doing that exhibition thing?… I think Rin secretly thinks that was romantic, tho,” Yamazaki murmurs that last part, more to himself than anything else. “It would’ve probably been if you didn’t fuck up, anyways…”

Haruka wonders if Yamazaki is going anywhere with this.

“I don’t want Tachibana to feel like shit because he isn’t with you. Neither does Rin, but he’s really stubborn.”

Yamazaki stares at him again in silence.

“Rin was really rooting for you, you know?”

That sincerely surprises Haruka. Was he, really? During the two weeks of Haruka knowing Matsuoka, he could classify the readhead as someone who is aggressive, annoying, and meddlesome. But, thinking it over, Haru recognizes that Matsuoka helped him a lot, answering his questions about Makoto whenever Haruka called him, and offering his guidance now and then. It’s just that Matsuoka’s personality is too intense, clashing with Haruka’s more tranquil nature, making him think that the redhead is out there to drive him out of his mind.

“Goodbye, Nanase.”

Yamazaki says before Haruka can say something else, turning and walking away, leaving Haruka with hands full of art and a new phone number he isn’t brave enough to call.

 

He doesn’t call Makoto immediately. In fact he doesn’t use the phone number at all. It’s not like Haruka doesn’t want to talk with Makoto, his whole body trembles at the thought of hearing Makoto’s voice through the phone saying his name, but he’s afraid of what could happen.

Makoto is in love with him, that’s for sure because of how he reacted at the exhibition. How did it happen? Haruka has no idea. Maybe he’s better at flirting than he originally thought, or maybe Makoto was simply a victim of their destined, but severed, link. Makoto can’t see colors, or at all, but his heart can feel emotion just fine and for some mysterious reason it was able to fall in love with the correct person.

But it’s all that that makes Haruka afraid of this call. Persistent doubt is always scratching the back of his head, questioning if what Haru wants to do is the correct thing. Hesitation fills his heart with memories of the art exhibition and the failed plan. What if he screws up again? What if he hurts Makoto so badly the brunette doesn’t want to be with him anymore? Can true, destined lovers be apart forever? Can their link be broken for eternity?

The idea is horrible. A life without Makoto seems gray even though his eyes are able to see the rainbow of the world. He wants to be with Makoto, he wants to know everything about him, to be able to recognize what the brunette is feeling with just a glimpse of his face. A life without Makoto wouldn’t be the same.

Haruka often wonders where Makoto is, how he is, and how he is feeling. All his bets are on him staying with Kou or with Yamazaki, considering those two were the ones picking Makoto’s stuff up the other day. He wonders if he talks with Matsuoka every day, and what they could be talking about, school? Matsuoka’s life in Australia? Haruka? What if Makoto talks with Matsuoka to complain about what an asshole Haruka is? No, that’s too far fetched. Makoto is probably mad at him, but he wouldn’t insult anyone. Matsuoka is probably insulting him, though.

The black-haired man is sitting at his desk, open art textbooks surround him, and the stereo is playing one of his recently acquired Jazz CDs. The saxophone sings seductively, keeping the silence from consuming and destroying everything. It plays to bring peace to the artist’s mind that would otherwise be a mess of thoughts of green and blue. The sun outside is preparing to finish for the day, to start anew at the other side of the globe, turning the sky orange with pink, hot hues.

He’s doing homework for a class, a project he must turn over next week that will affect his grades. Since the school discovered he’s able to see colors, things have changed a little; as previously said, he’s no longer special in their eyes so his art isn’t that surprising anymore – even though it continues to be way better than his classmates’ – the harrassment and unwanted solicitations to cheat also ceased – and Haruka is thankful of that – he’s no longer that weirdo or a trophy to win over.

His thoughts are interrupted when the music is disrupted by a loud knock on his front door, so he stands up and goes to open it, already knowing who is trying to break down the entrance.

“Haru-chan!” Nagisa says the moment his round eyes spot him behind the door, next to the blond is Rei, “How have you been?! It’s been a while since last time we saw you.”

Nagisa’s smile is contagious, making Haruka smile a little when seeing him. “I’m fine,” Haruka says while moving away from the door, “Come in.”

Both men enter the apartment, with Nagisa immediately taking over the conversation about this delicious sweet pastry he and Rei just tried.

“I hope we aren’t bothering you, Haruka-senpai,” Rei says with an apologetic smile, “It’s just that we thought you would appreciate the company.”

Haruka nods. He is kind of busy, but he indeed appreciates the company of his friends. Lately his only company has been the constant Jazz music that he has taken an honest liking, because it sounds good and because it reminds him of Makoto.

“We brought some cookies, Haruka-senpai, but don’t worry I didn’t let Nagisa choose them all this time. So there a few that I think will be of your liking.”

“Rei-chan, don’t be so mean! I always choose the yummy ones!”

“Haruka-senpai doesn’t have the same taste for sweets as you, Nagisa-kun,” Rei affirms, accommodating his glasses on his nose.

The black-haired man directs them to the table, both men sitting at it while he walks to the stove to put on some water for tea. It’s weird to have people around the place, it feels like an eternity since last time someone stepped inside his zone. If he remembers correctly, the last person to be in here - not counting that time of the brunette’s disappearance - was Makoto when he asked Haru if he could touch his face.

His cheeks burn red with the memory. He hadn’t thought of that particular day with all the events that have happened over the past few days. Soft touches caressing his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids and, mainly, his lips.

Haruka bites his lips.

“Oi, Haru-chan!” Nagisa calls him. Haruka turns around to see him, “Have you… have you heard anything about Mako-chan?”

Nagisa’s eyes – and Rei’s – are full of hesitation, as if they aren’t sure that they should ask such questions, as if it isn’t the right time to do so because they don’t want to open old wounds. Nonetheless, these wounds never closed; they are still red and bleeding and Haruka can’t do anything to stop the red liquid from escaping, tainting everything it touches.

“It’s been almost two weeks, right?” Rei asks.

The kettle finally whistles. Haruka turns off the stove, grabs three cups and puts them on a tray. He fills the cups with the hot water, feeling the steam touch his face immediately.

“Yes,” he finally answers.

“Have you thought of calling Matsuoka-san?”

“Yes. He doesn’t answer.”

Haruka leaves the teapot on the stove, taking the tray to the table for his guests, and sits down. Nagisa whines at the news.

“What is Rin thinking?” the blonde complains. Haru notices the lack of endearment on Matsuoka’s name on Nagisa’s part, but he decides to not comment on it. This means Nagisa is probably still mad at the redhead. “He treats you badly, then he goes away as if nothing, and to fuck everything up he doesn’t answer your calls! Doesn’t he know he’s hurting both you and Mako-chan?”

Nagisa rests his chin on both of his hands, elbows on the table, his mouth forming a tiny – and adorable – pout.

“Nagisa-kun, Matsuoka-san only acted based on his desire to protect Makoto, his friend from years ago. It’s only natural for him to react like this. I infer you would proceed just the same if Haruka-senpai were the one in danger.”

The blonde doesn’t answer, but he closes his eyes and sighs deeply. Both Nagisa and Haruka know that Rei is right – even if it’s a pain in the ass to admit it – they would act the same as Matsuoka if the other was in danger or being hurt. Matsuoka is no villain in this story of his.

“And what are you planning to do, Haruka-senpai?” Rei asks as he grabs his cup. Right hand around the cup, left hand under the cup, so perfectly placed on his fingers that Haruka can easily picture Rei practicing holding cups as a child.

“Are you going to wait for Mako-chan? Or will you keep insisting with Rin?” This time it’s Nagisa who questions. He grabs his own cup with only his right hand, thin fingers dispersing around the cup without any care for symmetry.

Rei and Nagisa are so different from each other, even in these little details, and yet they work together so perfectly. How long have they known each other? Four, or is it five years? It definitely feels longer than that. They act as if they’ve known one another since birth, or even before that if you dare to believe in past lives, but Haruka knows it’s otherwise.

He nostalgically recalls when his friends first started dating. Rei wasn’t that close to Haru yet, so he only got to hear Nagisa’s complaints about his new found boyfriend.

“He is so obsessive!” the younger highschooler Nagisa used to say, “He’s always complaining about how everything has to be ‘Beautiful’, so I thought that adding glitter to his science project would help but he got mad at me!”

And yet, Nagisa would comply to Rei’s strict standards while the blue-haired boy would also follow Nagisa’s much less careful suggestions. They found balance in their differences. Their differences complemented so well between them, like two pieces of the same big puzzle, unique on their own but part of a much bigger picture.

They rarely fight nowadays because they know each other so much they don’t have to.

But none of this was done overnight, or with the magical power of true, destined love, it was done with patience, care, love, and – most importantly – time.

Time that he and Makoto haven’t had. This whole ordeal of two weeks now seems ridiculous, now that he thinks about it. Two weeks? Who gets to know someone in a mere two weeks? All the while trying to not look desperate for contact but simultaneously never letting go?

Perhaps this is why true, destined lovers feel weird when they are separated. Maybe it’s their brains telling them to get closer, to not go separate ways because, even though they are destined to be, they still need to learn to be with each other.

Yes, destined lovers are supposed to be perfect for each other, but that doesn’t negate the fact that they are still two different people with their own dreams and personalities.

It’s a little too late for Haruka to have this epiphany, though.

“I don’t know,” Haruka replies after sipping tea, feeling the beverage warming his tongue and chest as he drinks. He decides to not tell his friends about Yamazaki giving him Makoto’s number, finding himself not knowing what to do with it or how to proceed.

The temptation to simply call Makoto is really strong, but in that soft, almost unnoticeable way, like wind playing with your hair all day. It’s constant and it doesn’t bother at first, but with time it becomes annoying because it feels as if the wind is playing a prank on you. Haruka knows that the only way to end with everything – the twitch of his stomach and the burning in his skin – is calling the brunette of green eyes.

“We don’t have enough information to know or to plan how to proceed on this matter, after all,” Rei says with that analytical voice of his, trying to comfort Haruka in his ignorance. “Perhaps all Makoto-san needs is to be alone for a while?”

That thought has passed Haruka’s mind before. Maybe Makoto just needs time to pick himself up to finally come back. Makoto right now is heartbroken, his heart shattered and wounded by the blade of lies that Haru himself made with his words and promises.

Haruka never thought it would end up like this.

“But we can’t just wait for Mako-chan to come back!” Nagisa says loudly, his face distressed at the idea, and his hands flat on the table, “Both Haru-chan and Mako-chan are in pain! We should do something!”

Rei and Haruka don’t say anything to Nagisa’s outburst, they just keep looking at him. The blond then burrows his eyes behind his hands, fat tears trailing down his suddenly red cheeks, and his voice breaking.

“Haru-chan and Mako-chan are suffering, there’s gotta be something we can do.”

Haruka is speechless, watching how Nagisa’s shoulders are trembling, but then Rei embraces Nagisa, covering him with his arms. The blond man surrounds Rei with his own arms and whines against Rei’s chest. Haru isn’t one to cry, but seeing Nagisa crying for him doesn’t feel right at all. So he stops watching, diverting his eyes to the brown table as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. He has never been good at comforting friends.

“I understand how are you feeling, Nagisa-kun,” Haruka hears Rei’s voice saying with a soft tone, “But all we can do right now is wait.”

The phone inside his pocket feels heavy, it weights as if every single thought of the world was concentrating in the small device, and Haruka is afraid he won’t be able to stand up.

Wait. All they can do is wait, Rei says. Would he say the same if Haruka told him that he already has Makoto’s number? What would Nagisa say? He would probably snatch Haru’s phone from his grasp and call the brunette himself. Would Nagisa call him a coward for not calling Makoto?

Is he a coward?

“Haruka-senpai,” Rei’s voice distracts him from his mind, making the blue eyes center on the purple – is it purple? – ones. “We’d better leave, I’m sorry.”

Haruka shakes his head without saying a word. It’s better to let Rei handle Nagisa because he doesn’t know how, even though Nagisa is his oldest friend, but Rei is the one who knows him the best.

“I’m sorry, Haru-chan,” Nagisa echoes Rei, his voice still a little broken, “If you need anything, please, call me. Please.”

Nagisa is good, always taking care of his loved ones even if he sometimes is in pain. He’s younger than Haru but his heart is so much bigger and brighter.

“Yes,” Haruka answers.

 

* * *

 

The question is simple enough, but somehow it feels like the hardest thing to ever do, his lips unable to open and his voice trapped in his throat with silent cryings that want freedom. It’s so hard because he knows he shouldn’t do it, it’s so hard because he knows he shouldn’t get closer.

And yet, his mind won’t stop going around and around the simple question. Ever since the moment he put a foot on this place because he’s a coward.

A coward.

He isn’t brave enough to deal with destiny. He’s just a simple man who can’t fight against destiny because it’s too powerful for him, and he doesn’t have any weapons — or forces — to fight.

Why can’t he simply accept destiny and move on?

“Tachibana.”

His name is called in the middle of his thoughts. It’s a deep voice he isn’t used to in his life but that he has come to know pretty quickly over the past days.

“Yes, Yamazaki?” he answers with a smile and closed eyes.

“Gou asked you something,” the other man replies.

“Ah, sorry, Gou. What was it?”

“I asked you if you wanted more rice,” the girl says, her voice sounding sympathetic.

“Yes, please,” he offers his bowl to the air, and let it go when he feels the bowl being touched by the young woman.

“Sousuke’s cooking is really good, right, Makoto-senpai?” Gou comments.

“It’s nothing special,” Yamazaki mumbles, his voice slightly distorted by whatever is in his mouth.

“You should learn how to take a compliment, Sousuke,” Gou finishes her line with a sigh. “Here, Makoto-senpai.”

Tonight’s dinner is tonkatsu, with white rice, courtesy of Yamazaki. It’s really good, Makoto agrees with Gou, the crispy batter prepared with the perfect amount of pepper and salt; it also isn’t as oily and greasy as it usually is in any restaurant.

The trio is at Yamazaki’s apartment that he shares with one of his college classmates. It’s not that fancy, but it’s big enough for the two of them and it’s relatively cheap with both men paying for rent. It has two rooms, a half-bathroom and a tiny kitchen.

It’s the place Makoto has been staying in for the last week.

It’s been awkward — yes — because he and Yamazaki aren’t that close and normally don’t talk much if Rin isn’t in the middle, but Makoto is grateful for Yamazaki’s hospitality.

It all began that night of the art exposition.

He already knew that he wouldn’t go far because he didn’t know anything about the place he was in; in fact, he didn’t even run away. He simply and silently walked away in the middle of the chaos, taking advantage of everyone’s distraction and confusion.

Makoto remembers that night like it was a dream, like something he wasn’t part of but still has the sensation of having experienced it because it was simply too real to deny it. And, of course, this time it was real indeed.

His body had been tense, his stomach twitched and knotted painfully, his skin was cold and sweaty, and his throat felt clogged with something too big to swallow. And the monster inside his gut — that damn monster — tore apart everything inside of him, with big claws and fangs the creature destroyed everything it could find.

Gou was the one who found him, walking aimlessly in the middle of the park, and she shouted his name with a broken voice. She asked multiple times if he was alright but he couldn’t reply because he didn’t know the correct answer. Soon enough Rin and Yamazaki joined them, Rin crying and angry with Makoto while Yamazaki only stood there in silence.

Rin suggested going back to Makoto’s apartment, but the brunette — speaking for the first time since they found him — refused to go there. Rin, thankfully, understood and accepted Makoto’s whims, proposing to go to the Matsuoka’s house. But suddenly Yamazaki spoke, saying that his place was a better option.

Makoto doesn’t understand why Yamazaki thinks his apartment is a better option, but he still welcomed the invitation. It’s true that he would feel more comfortable in the Matsuoka’s house — having knowing the family since childhood — but Gou’s safety would be endangered if the news were to spread in their campus, worsening the rumors about them.

The brunette continues to go to class, having asked Gou and Yamazaki to go to his place to retrieve his stuff a few times. He’s eternally indebted to the both of them and he knows it, but he can’t continue like this. That’s why, after a few days of deep thinking and pondering, Makoto decided to move out of his apartment.

The new apartment hunting isn’t going that well, though, but he has some new places checked that really attract his attention because of location and price. It’s a bit sad, nonetheless, because he really liked his previous apartment. He’ll miss the cat that he used to feed, who will feed it now?

And, of course, Makoto will miss **him**.

His piece of tonkatsu slips from his chopsticks, falling to his plate. Makoto opens his eyes and waits for a reaction from the two people with him, but he receives none when both Gou and Yamazaki are busy talking with each other. He sighs and picks the tonkatsu again, this time more carefully.

He hasn’t known anything about **him** in the past week. **His** name isn’t even mentioned in this apartment or in his presence, at least, and Makoto sincerely doesn’t know if he is glad or not about it.

Makoto had decided to stop thinking about **him** immediately. To stop his mind of diverting his thoughts to those of thin lips, almond-shaped eyes, and soft hair. But he has come to the conclusion that it’s practically impossible. So, for the time being, he refuses to say or think **his** name in hopes of forgetting whatever he feels for that man.

It’s not as easy as it sounds — does it even sound easy? — because his head is always invaded by sudden thoughts and memories of the past three weeks. From the picnic, to their hang out around downtown. The touches, the whispers, the yearning, all of it occupies Makoto’s mind without asking for permission.

“Have you talking with my brother, Sousuke?” Gou asks the other man.

“Yeah, just yesterday,” he replies, “He is as pissy about the weather as always,” Gou giggles with the comment.

“Sometimes I think Rin is just exaggerating everything. It can’t be that hot...” the girl says, “Oh! We all should go visit Rin sometime soon! It would be fun!”

“We should,” Yamazaki agrees.

The first night they arrived to Yamazaki’s apartment, Rin stayed with Makoto on Yamazaki’s room. The redhead listened patiently to everything Makoto had to say, to every lament and complain Makoto had inside his chest, and Rin never interrupted. The swimmer just sat next to him, his hand on Makoto’s shoulder, feeling heavy with hot comfort.

Neither Yamazaki or Gou — who decided to stay the night — entered the room, leaving Rin and Makoto alone for the whole night.

And, when Makoto’s words finally ended, when Makoto’s throat was sore for all the sobs he threw to the sky, Rin hugged him hard; so hard that Makoto felt like his lungs stopped working because the air was taken out of him. Rin told him everything would be alright, that all Makoto needed was time to be fine again because Makoto is strong even if he doesn’t realize it.

Rin left for Australia two days later.

Gou, Rin’s mother, Yamazaki, and Makoto went to the airport to bid him farewell. Yamazaki told Makoto he could stay at his place for as long as he needed. Rin started to call him every day to check on him, and talk about everything and anything.

Makoto is thankful for everything they have done for him — he really is — but he can’t help it when sighs escape from his lips every now and then.

“Ah, Makoto-senpai,” Gou speaks to him. “Tomorrow there will be a Jazz concert! Do you want to go?”

She sounds excited with the idea, and Makoto can feel her and Yamazaki staring at him, waiting for an answer.

It’s been two weeks since the last time he heard him.

Life continues to move on, and it won’t wait for him to get a grip and start walking, because life loves to live free and without restrictions. Makoto is a simple man with no power over destiny and life, and he should accept this as a law and a reality of the universe in which he lives. Something he can’t change and shouldn’t even try to do so because he will end up hurt and with his heart shattered in more irregular pieces that maybe he won’t be able to pick up.

Makoto deserves to be happy. He deserves to move along with life.

“Sure, Gou-chan,” Makoto answers, all smiles. “Sounds like fun.”

“Sousuke, you should come too! I won’t take a no for an answer,” Gou continues.

“Like brother, like sister,” Yamazaki murmurs, and Makoto chuckles.

“Ok!” Gou sounds happy, “I’ll text you the location tomorrow, I don’t remember it and I left the invitation at my place.”

After that, they continue to eat.

It may not be easy, but Makoto is determined to be well, to live life as peacefully as he can. There’s no sense in drowning when he knows how to swim. **He** may have his someone, his destined one, and that’s alright and fine because then **he** will be happy.

**He** won’t be alone.

And Makoto will be happy about it.

Eventually.

When they finish eating, Gou says her farewell, telling Makoto and Yamazaki that she will meet up with them tomorrow at 7:30 PM at the address she’ll text later.

Makoto slowly has been getting used to Yamazaki’s apartment, learning where the plates are, the towels, the glasses, etcetera, so he’s been able to help a little around the house. He took the chore of cleaning the dishes upon himself after a few days of staying there. The cold water falls on his hands when he starts to rinse the clean plates. Yamazaki is sitting behind him, silent in the kotatsu, probably reading something for his class while taking notes because Makoto can hear the soft murmur of the pencil against the paper.

“How’s the hunt for a new place going?” Yamazaki questions suddenly, making Makoto jolt a little.

“Ah! It’s going alright. Gou-chan has been a great help with that,” Makoto answers.

“Your old apartment is a nice place.”

The brunette lets the cold water pour down to his hands, letting the liquid to numb a little his senses in hopes of relieving the burning sensation in them that appeared out of nowhere when he remembered the feeling of thin lips and almond-shaped eyes.

“Yeah, it is,” he replies.

“Gou and I met Nanase the other day.”

His breathing stops for a moment that feels like eternity. The burning feeling now spreading from his hands to his chest and heart, wanting to yell and scream at the mention of that name.

“Is that so?” Makoto says as he grabs another plate to rinse out.

“He asked about you.”

Makoto doesn’t hear the pencil scratching anymore, meaning that Yamazaki must be looking at him directly, attentive to any reaction Makoto’s body gives his way.

“I see. Is he fine? What am I talking about? I’m sure he is—”

“He looked worried about you,” Yamazaki interrupts his words.

But Makoto doesn’t have anything else to offer. It’s obvious Har— **he** would be worried, with the hasty escape Makoto made all those days ago without any kind of explanation. It’s not his fault, it’s Makoto’s for falling in love with **him** – and the brunette knows that – but he can’t help it when his heart sheds a tear every time he thinks of **him** taking another person’s hand.

Makoto had thought that he would be ready for whenever **he** finds the destined person for him, but maybe it was way too soon for his heart to take the news.

After a moment of silence, the pencil starts to write again.

“Sometimes Rin calls me just to complain about the distance,” Yamazaki comments, leaving Makoto a little confused about the change of subject. “Sometimes the little shit calls me in the middle of the night, waking me up, to tell me that he misses me.”

That would explain why that night Makoto heard Yamazaki talking in his room.

The pencil doesn’t stop writing.

“Most of the time I know when he will call me,” Yamazaki turns a page before continuing, “It’s more like I can feel it.”

Makoto turns off the water, having finished the plates, and picks up a towel next to the sink to dry off his hands.

“Rin says he also feels it, like a pull. Like something pulling him with force.”

“Must be nice, knowing that both of you feel the same,” Makoto replies.

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt Rin.”

Makoto doesn’t reply, feeling embarrassed at his lack of empathy for his friends, and his face burns because of it.

“Of course,” Makoto says, apologetic, while leaving the towel in its place again.

“I don’t like it when Rin is in pain.”

The brunette turns around to face Yamazaki. He’s honestly surprised at Yamazaki but he doesn’t let his face show it off. Rin is always complaining about how dry Yamazaki can be, with occasional burst of romanticism that seems to be by mistake, but now Makoto is having second thoughts about it. This is the most that Makoto has heard Yamazaki talk without interruption because Rin usually is there to take that place, leaving Yamazaki with his content silence while the redhead is talking nonstop.

Yamazaki really cares and loves Rin. Makoto knows he shouldn’t be surprised at that – they are true, destined lovers after all – but hearing Yamazaki talk about Rin like this makes everything more real.

This is Yamazaki Sousuke, boyfriend and destined lover of his best friend Matsuoka Rin. They are destined to be together, linked by life and time with an invisible chain of love that keeps them together even if they are physically apart. The pain they feel inside of them is proof of this, of this undying love they discovered the moment they saw each other into their eyes all those years ago in High School.

It’s amazing how true love works.

“Tachibana.”

His name being called with that deep voice makes him jolt a little, breaking up his train of thought suddenly to bring him back to the present.

“Yes, Yamazaki?”

“Why don’t you want to go back to your apartment?”

Finding out that he doesn’t have an answer, Makoto stays silent. He doesn’t know how much Rin has actually told Yamazaki, maybe nothing, but the brunette guesses Yamazaki deserves to know at least something with how helpful he has been these past days.

“It may sound silly,” Makoto starts, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “But I don’t wanna meet with… with him.”

He isn’t brave enough to say his name out loud.

“Why?” Yamazaki insists on his questioning. Makoto feels his hands slightly trembling.

“I just don’t, Yamazaki.”

“But it’s obvious it’s hurting you.”

Makoto gulps. Is it really that obvious? He tries to remember someone saying something to him, asking him if he’s alright or if he’s sick, but he can’t think of anyone. No one had noticed something off with him, excluding Gou and Yamazaki who obviously know what’s up with him, so he had thought that he was doing an excellent job at hiding it. Maybe he’s, and maybe it’s just Yamazaki who knows what to say to him because he has been interacting with Rin way too much.

“That can’t be helped, right?” Makoto says as he smiles, closing his eyes and cocking his head to the side.

“How do you know it isn’t hurting Nanase too?”

His eyes open half-way immediately. The monster inside his gut is throwing a tantrum and ripping his inside with its long claws and fangs, making his heart scream for help and in pain, and his throat burn and clog. And still – still – Makoto remains smiling at Yamazaki.

“Nonsense,” Makoto says, his voice calm and tranquil, almost a murmur that doesn’t travel all the way to Yamazaki’s ears. “He’s with his true, destined lover.”

The ghost of silence enters the room to eat and consume all sound between these two humans. Coldness reaches to Makoto’s heart that keeps screaming for help, to tell him to stop whatever he’s doing and to – please – help his heart to stop beating so fast. But he can’t. He can’t help his heart because he has no control of what his feelings do to him and to his body.

In the middle of the screaming inside his chest, a sigh coming from Yamazaki is heard. The sigh is deep, coming from the depths of his lungs, and it has a distasteful taint of annoyance, resignation, and anger.

“Whatever,” Yamazaki says, “I just think it’s stupid.”

Makoto doesn’t answer because Yamazaki is right. It is stupid, there’s no sense in denying that. Besides, Yamazaki wouldn’t know what it feels like to love but know that there’s no future in there, he has Rin already even though they are separated. The brunette feels guilty again at his thoughts.

“I’m going out,” Makoto says, grabbing his cane and walking to the front door. “I’ll be back in some hours.”

Yamazaki hums as a reply.

The streets greet him with noise. Yamazaki’s apartment is more centric than Makoto’s, so the noise is stronger in his ears immediately. At first it was annoying and bothersome, the first nights he couldn’t sleep in peace because of all the sounds and noises around the apartment, and in the day it felt like he was never alone with his thoughts. The incessant whispers are always present inside his head and it can be pretty tiring.

A gust of wind surprises him, leaving his back cold and his hair messed up. The autumn is about to officially start, just in a few days, and the weather has changed accordingly to it. The air feels colder, more humid to the touch on people’s faces, and in the campus Makoto can hear the crunch of the leaves that fall from the trees and that end up like victims under the crowd’s steps.

Makoto sighs, opens his eyes, and faces the sky above him.

How long until it stops?

 

* * *

 

His blue eyes open suddenly.

The recorder is playing jazz music; this song has saxophone and piano, it’s slow and smooth to the ear. The room seems to be frozen in time except for the fact that it’s pitch black in a kingdom of distorted shadows and unknown dangers.

But something else calls desperately for his attention, the ringtone from his phone that is yelling at him from the kitchen. How long has it been ringing?

Haruka straightens up, having fallen asleep while doing his homework, and sees his notes. One page has a spot of drool in the white paper, smudging the black ink a little. His back cracks with the movement, painful but pleasurable.

The ringtone finally stops and Haruka is glad. It was a default one – unlike Nagisa’s or Rei’s – and that means that someone else was calling him, someone he doesn’t know, so it’s probably best to not answer.

He stands up – ensuring more cracking of his body – to turn on the light to continue his work, but as he flips the switch, his phone starts ringing again. Haru arches an eyebrow, finding strange that someone would insist so much in getting in contact with him. Maybe something happened with his parents? Or maybe with Nagisa and Rei? An emergency?

Panic bursts in his chest while walking to the kitchen cloaked in darkness. The screen of his phone is the only source of light in the room, making it easy to find it on the kitchen counter. Haru picks up the phone, checking the screen to see who is calling.

His eyes widen when he recognizes the number, taking the call immediately.

“You finally answer, Nanase.”

It’s Matsuoka.

Matsuoka is calling him. Finally. After weeks of trying to contact him. Matsuoka Rin is calling him.

“Where—“

“Before you start asking questions, Nanase,” Matsuoka interrupts him, “We need to fucking talk.”

Haruka’s breathing is grows uneven, fed by adrenaline and anticipation. Why did Matsuoka decide to call him now? When he has been ignoring Haru for almost two weeks? Did Makoto tell Matsuoka to call him?

“Why did you think that fucked up plan was good?”

Blue eyes travel around the house, unable to focus on anything because of the unsettling feeling in his stomach, until they spot the ugly-colored couch – a faint and quick “Why did you buy this again?” appears in his head. Haruka walks to the couch and sits down, trying to think of an answer that will satisfy Matsuoka’s inquiring, organizing the words that are hastily running through his mind.

“The plan didn’t end,” Haru says. Matsuoka hums questioningly.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t get to continue with the plan because Makoto disappeared.”

“So there’s more to it?”

“Yes, but—I need—“ his throat gets as dry as a desert, trapping his words in a tight cage, feeling emotion fill his heart to the brim. Somehow he manages to control himself and his breathing. “I need to see Makoto.”

Matsuoka is silent, and for a split second Haru thinks the redhead hung up on him, but then he speaks again.

“He hasn’t reached you?”

“He hasn’t been to his place all this time.”

“Yeah, I knew that much. I know where he is. But I didn’t think he would be this diligent to not meet or talk to you at all.”

Matsuoka’s words hurt him. Makoto is actually trying his hardest to avoid Haru. It shouldn’t be that surprising, the brunette even asked Yamazaki and Gou to come to pick up his stuff instead of coming himself, but it still stings to know that Haruka has caused so much pain to Makoto with his idiotic planning.

Then again, maybe it wouldn’t have ended this way if his piece of art wasn’t the center of attention of the whole exhibition, or maybe if he had presented this specific piece only to Makoto instead of what he did.

“I’ve been talking with Makoto every day,” Matsuoka continues. “To check on him and stuff. But he doesn’t talk about you.”

A cold realization showers Haruka, like rain falling from a thick, black cloud in the sky that, instead of comforting him like water usually does, makes him feel lonely.

Makoto is trying to forget about him.

His stomach heaves and suddenly he feels like throwing up, so he covers his mouth with a sweaty hand.

“Hey, calm down!” Haru hears Matsuoka talking, “I didn’t call you to hear your fits.”

Exhaling through his nose and freeing his mouth, Haruka says, “Why did you call?”

“Because I know Makoto is hurt even if he fucking says nothing about it because that’s how much of selfless guy he is. He thinks you found someone.”

That makes sense. Haruka showed his colored canvas without any kind of context because he wanted to keep it as a “surprise” for everyone, and he suddenly asked Makoto to stop hanging out for a long period of time – four days with three nights – so Makoto probably was feeling as edgy and jumpy as Haruka was for the anticipation of finally getting together. But, in the middle of his fantasies of a future full of green and smiles, Haruka didn’t think hard enough of the possible consequences his daring plan could have.

“I’m guessing you already know this, but Makoto actually fell in love with you. I don’t know how you did it with your horrible social skills.”

Yes, of course Haruka already knows that. But it still fills his heart with emotion and bright light. Hearing Matsuoka saying it only intensifies the feeling because now it’s more real than ever. He can’t help it when his lips turn up, a small smile adorning his face.

“Yes, I know,” Haruka answers.

“So, he’s trying to get away from you and your ‘special one’. He doesn’t wanna be a bother to you.”

That sounds so like Makoto.

“So… uhm… Nanase,” out of nowhere, Matsuoka’s voice sounds like a murmur, Haruka finds it difficult to catch what the redhead is saying. “About that night, at the museum…”

Matsuoka must be referring to the night of the exhibition.

“I’m sorry for reacting like that.”

Haruka doesn’t say anything, a little impressed at Matsuoka’s apology.

“I mean, I still think your plan fucking sucked, and I’m still mad at you for what you did to Makoto. But he loves you and I guess I should start learning to get along with you.”

“Matsuo—“

“I still don’t like you, tho.”

Haruka closes his lips, deciding that he won’t speak to Matsuoka anymore.

“Anyways, Sousuke told me he gave you Makoto’s number,” Haruka hums as an affirmation, “But you haven’t called him. Why?”

It should be obvious why he hasn’t called the brunette. He’s afraid of fucking things up even worse because he knows he isn’t the best at expressing his emotions with words.

“I’m still thinking what to say,” Haruka replies.

“Shit, Sousuke was right. You and Makoto are such idiots.”

Anger starts to bubble inside of Haruka’s heart.

“But I guess that’s what love does to people, isn’t it? It makes people make stupid decisions.”

Haru decides to not say anything about that because he guesses he doesn’t have any right to deny it.

“Nanase, you better start acting soon. Makoto is hurt and I don’t like one bit.”

It’s not like Haru likes it either.

“Yes, I know.”

“Ah, by the way,” Matsuoka seems to have remembered something. “I just talked with Gou, my sister. She said she invited Makoto to a jazz concert tomorrow.”

Haru’s eyes widen at the information. This is the first time he has heard about Makoto’s whereabouts or what he’s doing in weeks, and his heart receives the data with excitement and joy. In the back of his head, Haruka hears Yamazaki’s faint voice telling him that Matsuoka rooted for him. Is this what it’s about? Is Matsuoka trying to help him to get together with Makoto, and that’s why he’s telling him where Makoto will be?

“Where is the concert going to be?” Haruka asks, but his heart clenches when he hears Matsuoka snort.

“That would be too easy, Nanase.”

What does he mean by that?

“You’ll have to find the concert yourself!” Matsuoka’s voice borders on a sneer, dripping with mockery. It makes Haruka’s blood to boil.

“Oi, Matsuok—“

“Don’t worry, don’t worry. I know you can do it! Anyways, I have to go now. Bye!”

Matsuoka hangs up before Haruka can reply, leaving him with a dead line and his thoughts alone. He looks at his phone’s screen, seeing the phone number in the last call register; it doesn’t have a name for it. Haru saves the number on his phone, typing “Matsuoka Rin” as the contact name.

His blood rushes hastily through his veins and feeding the fire of his angry heart with each pump and beating.

He doesn’t understand Matsuoka at all. One moment he seems to support Haruka, and the next he acts like the biggest asshole in history without apparent reason, just for the fun and laughs at his expense.

To calm himself down, he scrolls down the directory menu until he finds the name he’s looking for.

“Tachibana Makoto…” Haruka murmurs to himself. His eyes drink in the three kanji on the screen, memorizing each black pixel of it until they are tattooed inside his mind to never forget.

It would be so easy to push the call button. He could hear Makoto’s voice after so long, after days of struggling to survive with just the memory of Makoto saying his name and touching him.

The phone’s screen turns black with inactivity, and the room’s darkness swamps him in a second. Under cover of dark, Haruka can pretend his face isn’t burning with the memory of hands touching his skin; caressing his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his lips. He bites the latter, worrying the bottom lip a little when sudden yearning overwhelms him. His skin begins to prickle, an itch covering every centimeter of his body that he has to fight not to scratch. He knows what’s happening, it’s the same from when Haruka asked Makoto to stop seeing each other so he could work on his piece. It’s the yearning, the longing, to be close to the other man.

Makoto must be feeling the same, his skin burning for contact. Haruka allows himself to wonder if Makoto’s hands are burning just like Haruka’s face is. He bites his lips harder.

First of all, he must investigate in the internet where there will be concerts tomorrow and their times. It’s logical to conclude that it will be in the evening, Makoto probably has to go to class in the morning, and the majority of concerts are late in the day anyways. It obviously has to be inside Tokyo, but in what ward? Would it be the one where they live or in another?

Panic starts to arise inside his body.

He needs help.

Haruka quickly walks to his room, taking out his laptop from its bag, while he scrolls through the directory on his phone, selecting the name he needs right now.

“Haru-chan! Hello!” Nagisa’s voice is excited and joyful, surely because it’s the first time Haruka called him in a while instead of the blonde man trying to contact him.

“I have to talk with you and Rei, Nagisa.”

“Sure, Haru-chan! Rei-chan is here. Oh, wait, let me put you in speaker so Rei-chan can hear you.”

Haruka waits while he opens the internet browser, typing with fast fingers “Jazz concert Tokyo where”.

“Ready, Haru-chan! Rei-chan is here, say hello, Rei-chan.”

“Haruka-senpai,” Rei says instead, more aware of how the heavy atmosphere, “Is something wrong?”

Haruka’s voice gets lost as soon as he pushes the “enter” key in the keyboard and sees the results.

Over 5 results. Only in their ward.

“I need your help.”

Haruka says as he clicks on the first link of the page.

 

* * *

 

The cold liquid goes down his throat with a delicious shudder of his body, welcoming the refreshing caffeinated beverage. The day isn’t hot, and this canned cold coffee surely isn’t necessary in the least, but it’s near impossible at this point to fight the temptation the savory drink offers, with promises of sugary delight with a touch of sourness. Poets probably have said that coffee is the perfect metaphor for life. Sometimes it’s sweet and clear, but sometimes it can also be dark and bitter; in any case, you have to drink it and endure it.

His ears are gifted with the calming crunching of the dry leaves on the ground and the steps of the people walking around him. They occasionally greet him with a happy “good morning” that he gladly answers with a word of his own. The white cane in his hand softly scrapes the concrete of the floor every time he taps the tip before him. And the wind murmurs between the tall buildings of the campus, whispers that say nothing but that sometimes sounds like they are calling his name.

“Makoto-senpai.”

He stops his walking when his name is no longer a whisper but a call, recognizing the sweet voice behind him.

“Gou, good morning,” Makoto answers as he turns around to face.

“I’m excited about the concert! Aren’t you excited? Ah, did Sousuke receive my text? With the location.”

“Yes, he did. Don’t worry. He actually sounds excited about it.”

“Seriously! Sousuke can be such a secluded guy when Rin isn’t around, right? Can you believe that he doesn’t call me when Rin is in Australia?”

Gou sounds kind of offended. He finds that adorable and chuckles a little. It’s true that Yamazaki prefers to be alone with his thoughts — that’s something Makoto has learnt in this short period of time of living with him — but Makoto suspects that it’s because the black-haired man doesn’t know how to act around others. When Yamazaki is talking over the phone with Rin, his voice changes, taking on a lighter tone that Makoto is sure matches with a fluttering heart full of love for the professional swimmer.

“So, maybe now that you’re living with him for the time being, Makoto-senpai, we can take him out a bit. He needs to live outside my brother, after all!”

Makoto sincerely doesn’t know how Rin and Yamazaki’s relationship works. Of course Rin often tells him how things are going, and about Yamazaki “being an asshole”, and stuff like that, but he isn’t exactly sure how these lovers keep in contact. Must be through text and occasional phone calls.

“Sure, it’s always nice to go out with both of you, Gou,” Makoto says with a smile, closing his eyes.

“Alright! Maybe we should make this a tradition of some sorts? The three of us going out to complain about my brother together.”

Makoto laughs at the idea, this time Gou joining him in the easy gesture until the giggles slowly die off.

“Makoto-senpai…” Gou calls him, and Makoto smiles to reassure her that he’s paying attention, “I’m glad you aren’t letting yourself stay down.”

Makoto keeps smiling but doubts fill his mind. Is he really trying? He guesses so. He supposes moving out, going out, and laughing are all signs of not letting yourself wallow. And yet, a tiny voice in his head tells him that it also could be considered running away, but he decides to ignore it and accept Gou’s supportive words.

“I’m trying,” he decides to say.

“Ah, I gotta go now, Makoto-senpai. I’ll meet you and Sousuke at the concert, alright?”

“Of course, Gou.”

She bids farewell before running away in an unknown direction, leaving Makoto behind and alone again. But somehow Makoto feels better than he did last night when he went for a walk. Gou’s words leave him feeling stronger, almost proud, because maybe — maybe — he is making progress even with Yamazaki’s comment yesterday. Perhaps it’s just Yamazaki who is more taciturn than anything.

His wristwatch beeps, indicating that he should make haste. So he continues his way to his classroom.

 

* * *

 

“He isn’t here.”

He tells Nagisa, who is on the phone talking with him, after glancing  around the room. The place is full of people, the majority dressed in black or dark colors with elegant hats. The red brick walls are plastered with various posters in black and white of different musicians, national and international, in different positions with musical instruments or glasses of a bouquet of alcoholic drinks.

The smoke of the cigars makes his eyes sting, and he blinks multiple times in hopes of relieving the pain.

“Ok, that would be the second place you check, Haru-chan,” the young voice sounds on his ear through the phone. “That would make it 5 in total with me and Rei-chan too.”

Haruka nods, forgetting that Nagisa can’t see him.

It’s the morning of the next day, and Haruka has been out of his apartment since 8 AM. Last night he elaborated a plan with Rei’s help to determine how they would find Makoto between all the concerts going on in Tokyo.

It’s impossible to know if the concert Makoto is attending to is placed in the ward they live in, so Nagisa suggested that they three separated ways in order to cover more field at the same time, adding the neighboring wards just to be sure. Nagisa also suggested adding the “underground concerts”, and not only the ones in important, official places. They are in constant contact via phone, giving Nagisa updates of where they are as the blonde is the one with the masterlist of locations and times.

By the time Haruka summarized all the possible locations, they divided the list between the three of them. The black-haired man skipped college for this, and so did Nagisa and Rei, for what Haru is eternally grateful. He knows that he’s taking valuable time from his friends, but this could be the last opportunity he could have of finding Makoto, in case that Matsuoka decided to give up on Haru.

_“I know you can do it!”_

Matsuoka’s voice resonates on his mind. Does Matsuoka actually believe in him? And why? Why did Matsuoka sound so confident about Haru finding Makoto? Whatever is going on Matsuoka’s mind, Haru admits he can’t understand it and simply accepts what he can take from Matsuoka’s eager hands.

The saxophone interrupts his inner monologue. The instrument plays loud but soothing, an inviting tone followed by the rhythmical sound of a piano. This song is a little different from what he’s used to, the rhythm being quick, edging in illogical, but the rest of the people seems to be fine with it. Haruka suddenly feels so out of place, with his minimal knowledge of American Jazz from the 60’s. He learnt this from Makoto. Does this mean Makoto has a “classic taste” referring to Jazz music?

“Haru-chan?” Nagisa says his name when he stays silent too long.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to stay there until it finishes?”

His blue eyes travel again through the room, fixating on the glass exit door standing open. This means that everyone can come and go out whenever they feel like it, and therefore they could arrive at any moment during the concert.

Haruka thinks he should probably just go to the next concert of his list, but the lingering anxiety of “What if you miss him?” makes him stay, applauding and talking only when it’s necessary. He checks the list he has of the upcoming concerts that Rei assigned to him, reading that the next one he must go is still two hours away. He has time to wait and watch the door.

“I’m going to stay until I have to go to the next one,” Haruka says.

“Remember you have to travel all the way there, Haru-chan. Don’t miss the train!”

“Yes.”

The crowd applause when the saxophone stops its music. The musician playing the saxophone is a girl with blonde hair and tanned skin. She’s smiling and bowing at the crowd.

Haruka doesn’t get modern jazz.

 

* * *

 

The delicious smell of the curry’s spices fills his surroundings, blessing his nose, and making his stomach growl in demand of food after hours not eating something. He bites the curry filled bread and it’s luscious and soft, with warmth that falls to his tummy to appease the beast inside of it.

While Makoto is eating with one hand, his other is busy reading a book for his next class.

Although he knows that this bread is delectable to the taste, and he really is hungry, something inside his stomach won’t settle. It’s not a nerves per sé, but it’s similar to when he’s about to take an important test, like butterflies flying in his stomach trying to escape through his throat but it doesn’t matter if Makoto opens his mouth, because the colorful butterflies won’t go out.

Makoto had thought that maybe he needed something to eat, but this bread isn’t helping to his cause.

Maybe he’s nervous about the concert, but that doesn’t make sense at all. Perhaps he’s just excited, it has been a while since he’s gone to one.

When he finishes his bread, Makoto crumbles the package and puts it inside his bag to throw away later.

He stands up, grabs his book, and takes a deep breath.

Whatever is happening to him, he just has to get used to it.

 

* * *

 

“Rei-chan says… that he’s going… to his next… location… Haru-chan!”

Nagisa’s breath is heavy, and Haruka can hear a lot of noise coming from the blonde’s side of the line. Is he running?

“How about you… Haru-chan?!”

Haruka’s lips are a tight line. He’s in the train in the middle of a sea of strangers. Haru is used to this, to the people around him being sometimes too close for his taste, it’s something that comes with living in one of the biggest cities in Japan. He doesn’t like it, but it’s inevitable. But no, what is driving Haruka out of his mind and making his stomach twitch is that the train fucking stopped.

“I’m stuck in the train,” he says.

“Eh?! Stuck?! Haru-chan, what did I tell you?!”

Haruka thinks that Nagisa should save up the scolding.

The black-haired man checks the hour in the screen of the phone. He still has about fifteen minutes for the concert to start.

“I still have time.”

“Ugh, alright, Haru-chan! I’m gonna check this one now. Bye!”

The blonde hangs up without letting Haruka say goodbye, as usual. Haruka knows this will happen several times this day.

A sigh escapes from his lips, full of resignation to the idea of spending more time than necessary in the train for the moment, but that doesn’t help against his trembling hands and anxious fretting.

What if Makoto is in this concert? What if the train doesn’t start moving soon? What if Haruka misses Makoto because the train doesn’t start moving?

Haruka closes his eyes when he realizes his breathing is getting uneven.

He has to calm down.

He has to calm down and not fuck things up. He has to calm down and breathe.

He and Makoto are destined to be. There’s no doubt about it. They are going to be together, they are going to spend the rest of their lives together, and they are going to love each other eternally.

He will hold Makoto’s hands, he will hug Makoto, and he will make Makoto happy.

Haruka opens his eyes, his breathing now calm again.

The train starts moving.

 

* * *

 

Makoto doesn’t know what he hates the most of this.

The smell or the sensation in his throat.

But he’s thankful he’s blind because he’s sure that if he had to see it, it would be a thousand times worse.

Makoto exits the bathroom booth, using toilet paper to clean his mouth after throwing up. He turns on the faucet to at least rinse his mouth with water, but he really wants to go to the convenience store close to campus and buy a toothbrush.

He also takes the opportunity to wash his face to refresh his senses, feeling a little numb after throwing up.

The jittery feeling only intensified the more time that passed, until his stomach couldn’t deal with it any longer and his brain decided that the best option was to throw up. Except it didn’t work and Makoto still feels weird and edgy, plus hungry again.

He doesn’t understand why he is feeling like this, when in the morning he was feeling rather well with himself, Makoto starts to suspect that the Jazz concert doesn’t have anything to do with this.

“Maybe I ate something bad,” it’s the conclusion Makoto says out loud in the bathroom, with his hands resting over the counter, even though he’s pretty sure he didn’t.

Accommodating his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his cane, Makoto gets outside the bathroom and the wind cools down his still slightly wet face, helping him to calm down the weird sensation in his stomach.

He sighs – he has done this a lot of times today – and closes his eyes.

Time to go home.

 

* * *

 

“Rei-chan just finished his list, and I’m about to do it. What about you, Haru-chan?”

Haruka is walking down the street, not really paying attention to his way so he often bumps to other people before saying he’s sorry, with the phone to his ear – he’s pretty sure his ear is all red from the overuse –. The blue eyes go down to the list in his hand. A lot of names are crossed, these are the locations Haruka has already visited, and his heart beats loudly when he realizes he’s also about to finish his list. Only two more places.

“Me too,” he answers to Nagisa question.

“Excellent! That means that you or I are gonna find him soon!”

Haruka wishes he could be as optimistic as Nagisa is.

“I only have two left,” Nagisa continues talking, “But they overlap in times by half an hour. I’m gonna stay in the first one as long as I can. Rei-chan will go to my last one and I’ll meet with him there.”

The blue-eyed man suddenly stops.

“Nagisa.”

“Yes, Haru-chan? Did something happen?”

No, nothing happened, at least not in the world. But inside of Haruka a surprising feeling begins to flood him. It starts from his heart and goes up to his throat, clogging it with sand because it feels dry.

“Thank you, Nagisa. And Rei, too. For everything you’re doing.”

His voice is a mere murmur that he’s afraid Nagisa didn’t listen because the blond is too silent for what it feels an eternity. The crowd in the street walks around him, trying to ignore the weird guy who suddenly stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Haru-chan…” Nagisa finally replies, “Haru-chan, you don’t need to thank us!”

Nagisa’s voice is somewhat broken, full of raw emotion, and Haru can perfectly see the pink eyes watering with big, crystal-clear tears.

“This is what friends are for, isn’t it, Haru-chan?! Plus, Rei-chan and I love you, it’s normal that we want our friend to be happy!”

For a second, Haruka thinks he’s about to start crying.

Nagisa can be meddlesome, sometimes he can even be loud, but the blonde will always be there for Haruka and the black-haired man knows it. Nagisa offers his help and a smile in dark times since forever, since the first time they talked all that time ago in school. And then Rei was added to their equation, the man who is also loyal, loving and gentle.

“Thank you, Nagisa.”

“Haru-chan, stop!” this time Nagisa laughs, happy and joyful. “We’re going to find Mako-chan, and then we all can go on a double date! How does that sound, Haru-chan?”

A small smile twists Haruka’s lips.

“Perfect, Nagisa.”

“I need to go, Haru-chan,” the blonde says before sniffing, “See you later!”

As expected, Haruka isn’t fast enough to reply to the farewell.

When he’s about to put the phone in his pocket to continue his way to the next location, the ringtone starts again. Haruka answers without checking who is.

“What is it?”

“Uhm… Nanase-san?”

He doesn’t recognize this voice. He gives a quick look to the screen to see the number, discovering that it’s an unknown one even for his phone.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Ah, Nanase-san! It’s me, Wakahisa.”

Wakahisa is his professor, the one who organized the exhibition and who was on the stage with him at the moment of uncovering his piece. Haruka is mildly surprised to receive a call from the professor, as the man has been kind of ignoring the artist since that night – Haru suspects it’s because he, unintentionally, made the old man look like a fool in front of the press.

“I need to talk to you, Nanase-san. You see, there’s someone here who wants to talk with you, about your—about your piece.”

An interview? Is that it? Why is it so important that the professor decided to call him directly?

Haruka looks up to the sky. An orange sea is slowly being covered by rivers of dark blue and white stars. His eyes widen. Has he really been running around Tokyo all day? His feet hurt out of nowhere.

“I’m busy,” Haruka replies.

“Nanase, listen!—“ the man clears his throat when realizing his voice is too loud with anger, “Nanase-san, I don’t care what you’re doing, you didn’t even come to class in the morning, but this is really important for the school.”

Ah, so it’s to benefit the school, not Haruka in the least.

“And—“ the man is interrupted, Haruka can hear another voice, a female one.

“Hello, Nanase-san?” the female voice is now on the phone, “My name is Shinohara Takara, and I’m part of an organization named Art Evolution.”

That still doesn’t say tell him anything.

“I’m sure you’re confused as to why I’m trying to reach you,” the woman continues, “You see, Art Evolution is an organization that supports and promotes art for everyone. We think that art should be available to everyone, including people with mental disorders, physical illness, and even people who can’t see colors.”

Haruka starts to walk again, but his attention is piqued.

“In Art Evolution, we’re sick of how the world of art acts like an exclusive club who only certain people can enter.”

Haruka goes downstairs to the train station. Yeah, he’s also sick of that, but what does it have anything to do with him?

“We’re interested in you, Nanase-san. We’ve been following your progress since your first university exhibition.”

Haruka scans his train pass.

“What I’m trying to say, Nanase-san, is that we want to talk with you about your experience in this college. From the moment you entered seeing only gray to now that you can see colors, how the people around you treated you then and how they treat you now.”

Haruka stops walking.

“This could really help Art Evolution in our fight for equality in the artistic world!” she sounds really optimistic. “So… what do you say, Nanase-san?”

Haruka looks around as if the answer is out there. He looks at the screen for a second to check the hour, and then he takes out the list from his jeans’ pocket. The next concert will start in only half an hour.

He doesn’t know what to do.

If he goes all the way to school, he won’t make it in time for the last two concerts in his list. But this interview is really important, it’s a step further for a more inclusive world where people won’t be separated in useless groups.

He thinks of Maeda Yoshiko, his classmate that has to lie about her true nature because she’s scared of being bullied. He thinks of himself, who had to endure his classmates – and even professors – teasing and harassing him.

He thinks of all the people whose dream is to be an artist but decide against it because they are afraid.

Haruka swallows hard.

“I accept,” he says at the same time his stomach tightens and jumps. “I’ll talk with you.”

“Excellent!” she sounds sincerely happy. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I’m far from the school, it’ll take me an hour to arrive.”

“It’s ok, Nanase-san! I’ll see you then.”

“… good bye.”

He hangs up and takes the train to his school, calling Nagisa.

 

* * *

 

“Are you ready, Tachibana?”

Yamazaki’s deep voice asks him, taking him out of his weird stupor.

Makoto is sitting at the table, his face against the table and his arms covering his head. His stomach continues to feel weird, and he threw up a second time when he tried to have dinner, but now his head aches and his skin burns.

“Oi, are you alright?” Yamazaki questions. Makoto hears steps coming towards him, and soon a big hand shakes him by the shoulder.

“Yes, I’m alright,” Makoto says, although he doesn’t know if it’s the truth.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go to the concert…”

“No, I’m going.”

Makoto straightens up slowly and smiles to where he feels Yamazaki is. “It’s just that my head hurts a little, but that’s it. Surely it’ll pass.”

“Are you sure?”

The brunette nods.

“Let’s go, then,” Yamazaki says as he grabs the car keys.

Makoto stands up and thanks the heavens he can walk normally.

 

* * *

 

“Tell me, Nanase-san, as an artist what would be the biggest difference between painting in grayscale and in color?”

Shinohara Takara is an old woman, with heavy glasses over her nose, her white hair combed in a bun behind her head, wrinkles all over her face, and an eternal smile on her lips. She, Haruka and Professor Wakahisa are sitting in an empty classroom. A recorder is next to Shinohara, taking every word that is said in the room. The woman looks calm, with evident years of experience in the subject of arts and the media, unlike his professor, whose foot won’t stop nervously shaking.

“None,” Haruka answers, and it seems that his reply surprises Shinohara.

“None?” she repeats as her eyebrows arch, wrinkling even more her forehead. “That sounds a bit unbelievable, doesn’t it, Nanase-san?”

“The rules are practically the same. Lights, shadows, textures, scales, everything,” he explains.

“That is very much true,” she agrees.

“Also…” Haruka lowers his eyes before continuing, “Art is an expression. So it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

When his eyes look up to see the woman, he’s gifted with an honest smile.

“That’s also true.”

For some reason, Haruka thinks that Shinohara Takara is able to understand what he’s trying to say.

“Now that you can see colors, did your life change? In any way or form?” Shinohara continues the interview.

Haru looks at his professor for a moment, before returning his eyes to the woman.

“Yes.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I was treated as a genius.”

“Ahh, that’s nice, Nanase-san!”

“Yes!” the professor says suddenly, and it feels out of place, “The school knows how to recognize talent when we see it, Shinohara-san.”

The old woman just nods at him, clearly not interested in what the old man has to say.

“Was it always like this, Nanase-san? Being treated as a genius?”

“Yes, but…”

Flashbacks of the past months play through his mind. All the teasing and harassing coming from everyone that he had to endure because he knew nothing would be done about it.

“Sometimes people can be annoying,” he says. Shinohara is interested immediately.

“How so?”

Haruka starts to talk about the harassing he received, how people used to try to flirt with him just because he couldn’t see colors, treating him like a strange trophy to win over. He also talks about the professors’ unnecessary sarcasm and low-key insults. And lastly, he talks about certain student who doesn’t see in colors but forced herself to learn to recognize each tone of gray because they were afraid of the possible bullying.

With each word that Haruka says, Shinohara Takara looks more and more interested with small nods and hums, and with each word that Haruka says, his professor looks more and more nervous.

“It’s been a difficult time, isn’t it? Nanase-san?” the woman asks, but Haruka guesses it’s a rhetorical question so he doesn’t answer.

The black-haired man looks to the wall, to the clock hanging in there. The second – and his last from the list – concert is about to start.

“I—I think this should be enough, isn’t it?” the professor says suddenly, “Nanase-san was busy before coming here, so I’m sure he’s getting impatient to go. Right, Nanase-san?”

Haruka looks at him and then to the old woman before him.

“No. I’m fine,” he says.

Shinohara Takara smiles wider.

 

* * *

 

“Do you see Gou?”

Makoto asks to his companion, who doesn’t answer at first.

“Yes, there she is,” Yamazaki replies, grabbing Makoto by the shoulder to guide him.

They are surrounded by a lot of people, Makoto can hear it. They are still outside of the building, so the cold wind of the upcoming autumn dances around them without any guilt for making people shiver.

“Guys, hello!” Gou greets them with her happy voice, “I’m surprised you got here on time, with Yamazaki driving!”

“What do you mean by that?” Yamazaki asks, his voice serious and kind of annoyed, but the girl just laughs.

“Let’s go inside,” she says instead.

 

* * *

 

It comes from out of nowhere, suddenly and without warning. It’s a pain in his stomach that he can barely cover up with his practiced neutral face.

He feels like throwing up, and his skin is burning and prickling, making him feel like drowning because his lungs are on fire.

Shinohara is talking, “My next question is…”

But a ringtone that Haruka knows very well interrupts her. It’s Nagisa’s ringtone. This makes his heart beat faster than ever.

“I need to answer this,” Haruka says without waiting.

“Ah, sure, Nanase-san, go ahead.”

Haru stands up to go outside the classroom, answering the call.

“Nagisa? What happened?”

“Haru-chan!”

Nagisa is sobbing. Haruka’s senses light up like a fire in a forest.

“H—Haru-chan, I’m sorry!”

What is he talking? Why is he apologizing for?

“Rei-chan and I—and I were going to the last place in your list,” Nagisa tries to say between his ragged gasps, “But the train stopped! We are stuck in the train!”

Panic invades his body like an evil spirit. It’s been almost half an hour that the concert started, and Nagisa and Rei are stuck in the train without any means of getting out of it. This is the last concert, that means that Makoto is in that concert.

His hands start trembling without control.

“I’m sorry, Haru-chan! I’m sorry!”

A loud sound distracts him from Nagisa, and now is Rei the one talking over the phone.

“Haruka-senpai, it’s Rei!” he sounds just as anxious as Nagisa, but his voice is somewhat more in order. “Are you still in your university?”

“Yes,” he replies, his voice in the border of panic.

“We investigated the address because we didn’t know where it was, but the last location isn’t that far from you, Haruka-senpai.”

Haru takes out his list to see the address. It’s a street he doesn’t know so he has no idea where it is.

“Don’t worry, Haruka-senpai, I will guide you! Nagisa-kun has my phone with the map already out, so please tell me when you’re outside!”

With this he will be able to go to the last concert, to where Makoto is and finally see him. He looks behind him, to the closed door of the classroom where Shinohara and his professor are. The interview isn’t over yet, but he really has to go.

“Wait a second, Rei,” he says as he opens the door.

Shinohara and the professor look at him, the only difference is that the woman is smiling at him and the professor isn’t.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” Haruka tells her. The professor is visibly relieved.

“What a shame!” The old man starts, “The interview was going great, isn’t it, Shinohara-san?”

“Indeed, professor,” she seems to be a little disappointed. “But I’m sure I can contact you later, Nanase-san?”

Haruka nods, bringing a smile to the woman, before running outside the classroom.

“I’m going outside, Rei.”

 

* * *

 

He can’t handle it.

The music is nice, the company is nice — although neither Yamazaki nor Gou know a thing about Jazz —, the whole atmosphere is nice.

But he feels like throwing up.

The tension in his stomach gets stronger every time the musician touches the piano, every time the saxophone’s music goes up and down with a lively rhythm, and he can’t do anything against the cold sweat in his trembling hands.

“Makoto-senpai, are you ok?” Gou asks him in a whisper. She is standing to his right.

“Yes, Gou. I’m fine, I just—I just need to get outside.”

“I’ll take you.”

“No, no,” he says, “I’m okay by myself.”

He turns around and extends his cane, counting the steps to the exit of the room until he feels the glass door with his hand.

The concert is in a restaurant that just recently opened, so the owner decided to give a Jazz concert as a way to attract people.

Makoto shudders and hugs himself tightly. He has never been good with the cold, and the nights at Tokyo can be cruel even if they are in autumn, but right now he feels grateful for the cold wind caressing his face because maybe it can calm down the burning in his skin.

As if his thoughts gave it strength, the burning sensation and the headache only increased. Maybe he should have taken a pill or something before coming to the concert.

The nausea lurks in his throat again, threatening and dangerous, and Makoto seriously doesn’t want to do it right now or ever. He decides that walking is the best option right now, so he starts his way not before calling Gou to tell her that he’ll take a walk before returning to the restaurant. She insists on accompanying him, but he refuses.

When he turns in a corner, the monster inside his guts wakes up with a loud growl, sharpened teeth and huge claws.

 

* * *

 

“Now you must run right, Haruka-senpai, you should be able to see a grocery store.”

Haruka is running. He’s running as fast as he can. He knows that taking the train or a taxi would be faster, but he can’t trust either of them right now, so he runs and runs, feeling a horrible dejavú from the exhibition night when he didn’t know where Makoto was. But now, this time, this night and this moment, something deep inside him know where his true destined lover is, knows where Makoto is and where to find him.

“Yes!”

“Next, when you see two streets go to the right one.”

He keeps running to find the two streets. On his mind he repeats.

_“The right one._ "

But his feet stop without him thinking.

“Haruka-senpai? Are you there?”

He knows he must turn right, take the right street, not the left. Rei didn’t say to take the left, the left is the wrong direction.

His breathe is hasty, his heart feels ready to explode inside his chest and splatter everything, and his throat burns like smoky coal.

“Left,” Haruka says.

“What? Left?—Haruka-senpai, didn’t you hear me? I said **right**!”

“I’m taking left.”

“Haruka-senpai, that’s not—!”

Haru hangs up first for the first time.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t know why he’s feeling so edgy, so hurried, so hectic without reason, all he knows is the sensation of being controlled by the blood-thirsty monster that resides inside of him.

The monster keeps pushing and pushing him, further and further into these streets that he doesn’t remotely know. He knows he shouldn’t get too far from the restaurant or he’ll never find his way back, but even if his brain understand this his body doesn’t respond to his command.

Before he knows it, he’s practically running, again thanking the heavens for the empty roads of these back alleys, and his white cane tightly held on his hand.

Run faster, something inside him says, run faster and faster.

 

* * *

 

His phone doesn’t stop ringing with Rei and Nagisa’s ringtone, but Haruka doesn’t answer to either of them.

His skin burns stronger, his throat feels on fire, and his feet are about to give up.

Run faster, something inside him says, run faster and faster.

 

* * *

 

The scent of wet dirt and flowers surrounds him, welcoming with an invisible invitation to stay here, and Makoto finally stops.

He feels tired, and now not only his head feels like it’s about to explode, but now his heart is beating fast, too fast, so fast Makoto is afraid of it.

But most of all, it hurts.

The only thing he can hear is his hasty breaths and the monster of silence trying to eat him whole.

 

* * *

 

He can’t keep running, he simply can’t, but he also can’t stop.

He runs through corners, alleys and streets, a whole unknown maze before him but that, somehow, he knows where to go.

He only stops when before him appears a shrine, with the scent of flowers and wet dirt flying in the air.

 

* * *

 

He’s trembling so badly he can hear his knees shaking.

His throat is so clogged he can’t breathe anymore.

But then—

 

* * *

 

In the middle of the little plaza in front of the shrine, surrounded by green bushes with pink flowers that glow warmly with the lights of the streetlights—

 

* * *

 

He opens his eyes and feels the monster inside of him yelling—

 

* * *

 

His heart is about to explode—

 

* * *

 

He takes air—

 

* * *

 

He just has to—

 

* * *

 

“Haru.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m here.”

 

* * *

 

Of course he is here.

That’s why the monster he possess inside of him stops yelling and stops hurting; suddenly it’s calm, content and peaceful.

“I know.”

Of course he knows.

 

* * *

 

Haruka walks towards Makoto, rapidly and without waiting, but fear still lingers at the base of his throat as he speaks.

“Makoto.”

Makoto closes his eyes and sighs, visibly trembling.

 

* * *

 

It’s not fair.

Why is Haruka calling his name with that perfect voice of his? Makoto has been trying so hard to forget this voice, to forget how right it feels whenever this voice says his name.

“Yes, Haru?”

 

* * *

 

“I need—” his throat is still hot like a flame, it hurts. “I have to talk to you.”

Makoto bites his lips.

“More like,” Haruka continues, “More like I want to show you something.”

The brunette frowns.

 

* * *

 

“I’m blind.”

He feels kind of ridiculous for having to remind Haru about this, but his doubts stop when he feels a cold hand taking his.

 

* * *

 

“I know.”

Haruka pulls Makoto’s hand tentatively, wishing to every star above their heads that Makoto comes with him.

He smiles when Makoto takes a step further.

 

* * *

 

Haruka insists on taking a taxi instead of the train, he doesn’t give a reason, but Makoto can feel that the artist is tense about the topic. It surprises Makoto when Haru gives the address of their apartment building as their destination.

His head stopped hurting, he doesn’t feel nauseus anymore, and his skin burns with a different kind of fire that feels warm and gentle, mainly in his hand that is still held tight by Haruka, even though they are in the back seat of the taxi.

Why is Haruka doing this? Why was Haru there? Was he looking for him?

Makoto bites his lips again, a reprimand to himself to stop having wishful thoughts about the man next to him. Haruka already has someone, and Makoto must accept this in order to move on.

The trip is done in silence, just the distant noise of the other cars around them along the radio of the taxi driver. A song about rain is playing, saying how beautiful the rain is and how good it feels when it touches your skin. Makoto is almost sure it’s an allegory about finding love.

A ringtone disturbs the silence. It isn’t his, so it must be Haruka’s.

“Yes,” Haruka starts speaking, “Yes, I’m going home.”

Makoto hears excited screamings through the phone. He wonders who could it be.

He decides to ignore the voice telling him that it’s probably Haru’s lover.

 

* * *

 

They arrive at their destination and Haruka pays off the fee, practically dragging Makoto by the hand up the stairs.

Quick, everything has to be quick.

When they enter Haru’s apartment, the artist lets go of Makoto’s hand.

“Wait here,” he says and walks to his room.

 

* * *

 

Makoto tries to hear carefully. Any sound that indicates that there’s someone else in this place. Someone else between him and Haruka. Another voice, another pair of steps, another breathe, but nothing comes his way.

His hands tightly grip the handle of his cane, so tightly he may end up breaking it, but he feels so tense and on edge here.

The lack of telltale sounds don’t mean anything, of course. Haru’s true destined lover could perfectly well live in another place, it isn’t that necessary for them to be together all the time, isn’t it?

Makoto bites his lips when he discovers himself thinking how he would totally spend all his time with Haru.

“I’m back,” Haru says, “Give me your hand.”

The brunette almost chuckles because now Haru is asking for permission when just a few minutes ago he was the one taking Makoto’s hand without asking. Either way, Makoto offers his hand to the artist.

Soft fingers touch his hand, taking it and pulling a little. Makoto permits Haru to guide his hand to whenever he wants.

He stops when he feels something on his fingertips. Haru’s hand withdraws, leaving Makoto’s alone to touch.

It’s hard, with a linear texture that feels endless when Makoto moves his hand up and up, but it ends when his fingertips meets with the edge of this thing. So Makoto moves his hand lower, to the center of what Haru is offering him, without taking his fingers off, and the linear texture isn’t there anymore. Now it feels rough, like hard cloth, but that also stops when he feels a thick, hard line. This line has the “hard cloth” sensation at both sides. Makoto decides to follow the line, that it’s full of curves that doesn’t make sense for him.

“What is this?” Makoto asks, but Haruka doesn’t answer.

Guessing that Haru won’t say anything, Makoto continues his touching. His hand travels further than the line to be met with another texture; it’s soft but it goes up and down, like waves in an ocean. In the middle of this sea, Makoto finds another thick line just like the previous, also surrounded by the hard cloth sensation to its sides. It may be Makoto’s imagination, but this line almost feels like a drawn nose.

Makoto gasps.

“This is your art piece,” he says.

“Yes,” Haru whispers.

Makoto immediately withdraws his hand from the canvas, as if the paint could burn his skin. He doesn’t want to touch it, he doesn’t want to touch the colorful oath of a love that doesn’t belong to him.

“Makoto.”

But Haru’s perfect voice insists, with a whisper that travels all the way down to his heart to make it lurch and beat painfully. So, mustering all the courage and strength he has on him, Makoto continues touching the paint.

Ignoring the side he already touched, he goes to the other, this time his fingertips are received to a rough texture. He frowns. Just how much texture this painting has?

It feels like splatters or something, as if the brush had a considerable amount of paint when it touched the canvas, but all the strokes are in curves. It gives a wild and lively sensation.

“It’s… interesting,” Makoto says when he finds himself not knowing what else to do.

“Touch lower.”

His eyebrows frown again, questioning, but he obeys Haruka’s request anyways.

His fingers goes down until he feels something different; it’s the same linear texture, but it feels bumpy, like dots, round and big dots.

Makoto opens his eyes when he recognizes these.

Suddenly the canvas starts trembling a little. Is Haruka holding the canvas? Is Haruka trembling?

“It’s braille,” Makoto observes, “Japanese braille.”

Haruka doesn’t respond, but Makoto can hear him swallow.

Makoto feels like he’s about to cry. He bites his lips one last time before starting to read, the dots clear on his fingertips and mind.

He stops breathing.

He removes his hand from the painting.

“I made this piece…” Haruka’s voice graces his ears in the middle of the dark. “I made this piece thinking of you, Makoto.”

“No… but you… colors, you can see co—”

“I love you, Makoto.”

 

* * *

 

Makoto is trembling.

Makoto is trembling so much and so is Haruka.

“I can see colors **because** of you, Makoto.”

The brunette slowly shakes his head and bites his lips.

“That’s not—It can’t be—I can’t—” Makoto can’t speak clearly, his tongue messing up every word. “I’m bli—”

“I know.”

Haru tosses the art piece to the kitchen counter without any care, taking Makoto by his wrists to prevent him from getting away when he sees Makoto walking backwards.

“Makoto, I love you,” he insists.

Before anything else happens, Haruka hugs Makoto by the middle with force. He hears Makoto’s breath hitching for a second, and the brunette’s heart is beating so loudly it invades Haruka’s head.

His breath stops when he feels Makoto returning the embrace, holding him with a strength Haruka didn’t know the brunette possessed.

“I love you, Haru.”

 

* * *

 

He confesses and it feels like he’s alive again. Like a heavy and cold cover finally dropped from his shoulders to let the sun bathe him completely. He feels light and out of his body, and he doesn’t know what to do about it, how to react or what to say next.

“I love you,” he says again.

Haru feels so small in his arms, and Makoto can feel how the artist is trembling against his body.

Yamazaki’s words fly through his mind like arrows attacking his consciousness.

_“Most of the time I know when he will call me.”_

_“It’s more like I can feel it.”_

_“Rin says he also feels it, like a pull. Like something pulling him with force.”_

Is this what Yamazaki meant with those words? Does it feels like this? Like this invisible force pushing and pulling inside of him that only Haruka can put at peace? This uncontrollable desire to hold Haru and to never let go?

Is this what true love feels like?

Makoto feels their hearts beating in unison, like two instruments playing the same song to the sky. Makoto feels like their souls are merging together to something unbreakable. His heart is being slowly revived with a warm emotion that Makoto can’t begin to describe with simple words. Haruka’s body molds so perfectly between his arms, it’s impossible to think that Haru may belong in someone else’s embrace.

“All this time,” Makoto whispers, “All this time…”

“I’m sorry, Makoto, for lying to you. But—”

“Shhh, shhh, no, don’t.”

Makoto lets go of his cane, and it makes a thudding sound when it hits the floor, but he doesn’t care because all he wants is to get closer to Haru. Makoto uses both hands to cup Haru’s head, his long fingers tangling in the artist’s hair, and rests his forehead on Haruka’s. His thumbs get wet when what must be tears track down Haru's cheeks.

“You were scared, I get it. It’s ok,” Makoto whispers. “I was scared too.”

“Makoto,” Haruka also whispers.

 

* * *

 

Makoto’s eyes are so green. So green and full of love, and life. Haruka wants to get lost in them forever and he would be eternally happy.

He’s so in love with this man, he thinks his heart might stop beating at any moment.

His hands find their place on Makoto’s neck that he caresses with his thumbs. He sighs when he feels Makoto’s fingers moving through his hair.

“Makoto, ki—”

The brunette is quick and doesn’t let him finish his words, kissing him.

Haruka swears on his life that he just died for a second.

 

* * *

 

It feels perfect.

It feels like he was born specifically to kiss these lips, it feels like Haru was born just to kiss Makoto’s lips.

And it’s perfect.

It’s perfect the way Haru’s breath stops for a second, it’s perfect the way Haru’s body trembles, and it’s perfect the way Haru hums into the kiss.

It’s so perfect Makoto wants even more.

“Haru…” he murmurs when he breaks the kiss for a second, before kissing the artist again.

Is this what it feels like? What kissing your true destined lover feels like? Is this what destiny feels like?

 

* * *

 

“Makoto…”

The blind man trembles again when Haru whispers his name.

“I love you, Haruka.”

It’s his turn to tremble when Makoto whispers his full name.

“I love you, Makoto.”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Haru. I don’t want to ever separate from you.”

Makoto’s words burn in his heart.

“I want to be with you, to know everything about you, Haru. I want to hold you and never let go.”

Haruka shakes his head slowly, as he replies. “No, don’t. Don’t ever let go.”

This time is Haru who kisses Makoto, resting his forehead on the taller man’s after breaking the kiss.

“Forever together,” Haru says his oath for life.

“Forever,” Makoto vows with a smile.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot for accompanying me on this ride.
> 
> I almost can't believe I worked in this fic for a year. It almost sounds ridiculous. But, finally, it's over and I'm honestly feeling kind of emotional about it.
> 
> It's hard to believe this story was planned to be a long one-shot, but as soon as I started to write I understood that wouldn't be possible. 
> 
> I hope you liked this ending, I worked really hard on it and I'm nervous about it hahaaaa.
> 
> I'm still planning of writing short stories for this "saga", but this time focusing in SouRin and NagiRei and how their relationships work in this universe.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated!!
> 
> You can also find me on my tumblr [AleishaDreams](http:www.aleishadreams.tumblr.com) and my twitter [ActualAleisha](http:www.twitter.com/actualaleisha)
> 
> If you want to post or comment about this fanfiction on tumblr, you can tag it as "AleishaDreams" or "MakoHaru Color Me In Love"! For twitter it can be tagged directly as ActualAleisha or #ColorMeinLove, not just "Color Me in Love", THIS is really important because otherwise it'll get lost on all the other tweets out there. I'm very active on twitter, so don't be afraid to contact me!
> 
> I would love to talk to all of you!


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